


Oak Rings

by DhampirsDrinkEspresso



Series: Echo Chamber [1]
Category: Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Summer Camp, Angst, Ben Solo Needs A Hug, Character Death, Divorce, Druid Luke Skywalker, Emotional Roller Coaster, F/F, F/M, Gaslighting, Grief/Mourning, Gun Violence, Gunshot Wounds, Hallucinogens, Han Solo death, Loss of Parent(s), Luke Owns a Summer Camp, M/M, Manipulation, Maz is a Tree, Mention of pregnancy, Minor Character Death, Naiad Rose, Non-Consensual Drug Use, Nymphs & Dryads, Original Child Characters, Poisoned Water Supply, Pregnancy, Profanity, Rating May Change, Ritual Sacrifice, Rituals, Swearing, Tags May Change, Threat of Harm to Children, Time Skips, Well Technically Maz is a Dryad, cursing, dryad rey, eco terrorism, logging, nature deities, parents fighting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-01
Updated: 2020-09-05
Packaged: 2021-03-06 03:40:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 23,470
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25646719
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DhampirsDrinkEspresso/pseuds/DhampirsDrinkEspresso
Summary: 14 year old Ben Solo didn't really want to spend the summer with his Uncle Luke, but at least he could do what he wanted and didn't have to listen to his parents fighting. So what if the woods were creepy, and it always felt like someone was watching him? So what if "someone" turned out to be a pretty girl? A pretty, naked girl who watched him sleep and stole his lemonade and spoke in single words and claimed to live inside a tree...After some major life changes and betrayals, adult Ben Solo managed to convince himself none of it was real, and when the opportunity to settle an old score presents itself, he's the first to volunteer to destroy the very place he once held dear. Too bad for him that it was all too real. An angry dryad can be a formidable enemy, but a crying one...that he can't handle.
Relationships: Armitage Hux/Rose Tico, Dopheld Mitaka/Phasma, Kaydel Ko Connix/Jannah, Kaydel Ko Connix/Poe Dameron, Kylo Ren/Rey, Leia Organa/Han Solo, Poe Dameron/Finn, Rey/Ben Solo, Rey/Ben Solo | Kylo Ren
Series: Echo Chamber [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1925017
Comments: 59
Kudos: 73





	1. Wind Chimes

**Author's Note:**

> I can't stop, y'all. The ideas won't stop and the new ones keep taking over and shoving everything else back. Not sure when this will be updated, but I anticipate 3-5 chapters total.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ben is shipped off to spend the summer with his Uncle Luke. There's no air conditioning or TV, but it's not all bad. Then he meets a girl in the woods behind Luke's house. A naked girl who thinks she lives inside a tree...
> 
> _She stepped out from behind the tree. Was she… Oh dear, yep, she was.  
>  Ben looked away quickly, face flaming. “You’re naked.” Was that really his voice? All squeaky like that?  
> “Naked?”_  
> Don’t look. Don’t look. Don’t look.  
>  _“Ah, yeah, no clothes. Where are your clothes?”_  
>  _She gasped again, more a sound of understanding than surprise or embarrassment, and there was a rustling sound. “Not naked,” she said firmly, sounding proud._

Ben didn’t want to spend another summer at Uncle Luke’s. The woods around his house were creepy and full of bugs, it was too hot—Uncle Luke didn’t even have air conditioning!

And the campers…

UGH!

He _hated_ the campers. At least Uncle Luke wasn’t going to make him stay in one of those stupid cabins this time, not after the last summer.

It wasn’t his fault. He hadn’t _meant_ to break Kevin Johnson’s nose. His aim wasn’t that good anyway, so if he _had_ meant to, he probably would have missed and broken his own hand on the wall or something stupid like that.

Ben sighed and squirmed in the seat, trying to find a more comfortable position. “Master Ben,” the driver said, “We are approximately one hour away. Shall we stop for a comfort break?”

“Sure, why not?” he huffed, resettling against the rear passenger door and putting his feet in the seat. Threepio, as his mother affectionately called the man who had been her personal driver and butler for longer than Ben had been alive, nodded and maneuvered the Cadillac into the right lane. He wasn’t so bad, really, Ben thought. He didn’t yell at Ben to get his shoes off the leather or sit up straight, he let Ben play whatever music he wanted to on the main sound system so Ben could save the batteries in his discman. He offered a “comfort break” every time Ben got so uncomfortable it hurt to sit on the plush leather cushion of the seat.

The doctor said it was a growth spurt. Ben had already gained several inches in height, and the doctor said his muscles and tendons and ligaments were straining to catch up, causing “relatively minor” aches and pains sometimes. He’d honestly been surprised Doctor Ackbar had defended him to his mother, insisting it was normal and suggesting she not chastise him for sitting in whatever position were most comfortable, even if that happened to be sideways across his father’s La-Z-Boy or with his feet on the wall and his head hanging off the couch so he could watch TV upside down.

As the car rolled to a stop he unhooked his seat belt (that was the one thing Threepio refused to budge on—Ben could sprawl any way he wanted across the back seat so long as he could still wear his seat belt). He opened the car door and stepped out, stretching gratefully, and walking in a small circle by the car, wincing a bit at the hot, humid air, so heavy it felt like it hurt to breathe at first. He followed the driver into the small convenience store, grabbing some snacks and a cold drink as they waited for the restroom to be available. It was the start of summer and they were surrounded by vacationing families—not to mention parents heading into the mountains to foist their kids off on Uncle Luke and others like him for a few weeks. Ben was sure the boy and girl at the fountain drink machine had been there at Luke's last year. They were younger than him, the girl the eldest and maybe 12, but they seemed familiar. They spotted him and waved, big, friendly smiles. He waved back awkwardly but was saved from having to speak to them when Threepio stepped out of the men’s room and waved him to the door.

The rest of the trip went about the same way as the first two and a half hours, although his ears did stop up and pop a few times as they crossed over into the mountains, and the pain in his joints increased (whether that was due to so long in the car or the change in elevation he didn’t know, or care, really—it _hurt_ either way).

Uncle Luke was waiting on the porch when they arrived. It was an old farmhouse, passed down through the family, and not much to look at. Oh, it was clean, well kept, but small and the front porch was sagging a bit. The original structure had been just two rooms—the kitchen and main front room (which was later divided into the small living room and a bedroom). Over the years as the family had grown, other rooms had been tacked on as needed, just built into the side of the house and a new door cut into an existing wall.

Electricity and indoor plumbing had been the last of the improvements and additions. There was only one bathroom, tacked on at the back of what had once been a screened in porch and was now a glassed in storage room, home to a deep freezer, an extra refrigerator, some assorted storage boxes of odds and ends on a metal shelf, and a stack of old lawn chairs that may or may not be usable anymore.

Uncle Luke waved and smiled brightly, dimming a bit when Ben just greeted him with a low, “Hey,” accepting his hug but not returning it.

“Oh, right, sorry, too old for affection now, right? It’s not _cool_. Noted.”

“Oh, God,” Ben muttered, rolling his eyes, and opening the screen door. He made his way across the front room, into the first bedroom, through a door into a second, and finally into the smallest in the house.

There wasn’t space for much other than the bed, and Ben was almost too tall to even stand up in the low ceilinged room, but it was the most private spot in the house other than the root cellar which was, oddly enough, on the same level as the rest of the house. It was accessible through a door in the dining room, because the house had been built into the side of the mountain and the cellar was dug out after the dining room had been added behind the kitchen. It made climbing onto the roof for any needed repairs (or to retrieve stray frisbees or baseballs) considerably easy. It also made climbing onto the roof to prank the camp director (and by extension, his nephew) _far_ too easy. Ben dropped his bag on the foot of the bed and sighed, thankful that at least Uncle Luke had turned on the fans and opened the small window to allow in what little breeze there was.

Ben returned to the porch, intending to say goodbye to Threepio and maybe claim a glass of the icy cold lemonade Luke had waiting on the small table by his rocking chair. One thing Uncle Luke did well was make lemonade—the real stuff, with hand squeezed lemons and real sugar and sometimes berries or mint added for a twist. Ben claimed he would have preferred sweet tea (Uncle Luke didn’t do caffeine) but really, Uncle Luke’s lemonade was probably his favorite thing ever—not that Ben would ever admit it out loud. He was pretty sure his uncle knew, though, because he always had plenty when Ben was around, and he made sure to add blackberries at least once a week while Ben was there, even though Ben knew Luke preferred strawberries or raspberries.

After Threepio left, offering Ben a firm handshake and an affectionate smile, Ben settled on the porch swing with his lemonade, sipping the cold liquid and enjoying the breeze from across the valley. “I’ll need to go over to the camp soon,” Luke said with a nod in the general direction of the camp, a little down the mountainside also overlooking the valley. “I need to make sure everyone’s settled in, be there for dinner. Do you want to come?”

They both already knew the answer was no, but Ben supposed it was kind of his uncle to ask. “It’s mac and cheese night,” Luke added. “Gooey, not baked.”

That…was not unappealing.

“Maybe, I guess.”

Luke tried to hide his smile behind his lemonade glass.

Dinner at the camp was awkward, and kind of boring, but not quite as bad as he had expected. At fourteen, he was older than the campers (the cut off was no older than twelve by the application deadline in April, so a few of them had turned 13 and were only a year younger than Ben) but he was still too young to be a junior counselor (they had to be at least 15, with first aid and CPR certification). Not that he wanted to be.

His height helped him blend in a bit with the younger staff, though, and Poe Dameron was back again this year. Poe had always been friendly, and he had tried to step in without making things worse when Ben was bullied. Poe was sixteen, and introduced the pretty blonde lifeguard as his girlfriend, Kaydel. She seemed sweet, and she didn’t make fun of Ben’s ears or tell him he was weird looking like some of the girls at school had.

Poe and Kaydel made an obvious effort to include him without making it feel all uncomfortable and weird, and the other junior counselors either followed their lead or just ignored Ben (which was preferable to the cruel teasing he had expected).

By the time he followed Uncle Luke back up the hill to the house, he was pleasantly full, tired in a good way, and ready for a shower and sleep. He crawled into bed in his boxer shorts, hair still damp, with both the small fan on the nightstand and the larger stand fan at the foot of the bed pointed straight at him.

It was still humid (it was _always_ humid here) but the air was a little cooler and the wind over the valley had shifted just enough that it was blowing across the lake and through the trees behind the house, rattling leaves and sounding almost like whispers.

The sounds must have bothered him more than he thought, because Ben dreamed that night that someone—a girl—was standing outside his window, watching him sleep and giggling to herself as she whispered nonsense in the wind.

The next morning Uncle Luke was already gone, but Ben had expected that. It was the first full day of camp activities, and Ben had been invited to participate in any he wanted but he didn’t really have any interest in archery or arts and crafts outside of calligraphy (not that he was going to admit that to anyone at the camp). Horseback riding might have been okay if not for the fact that the horses all seemed to hate him. Swimming in the lake was gross—fish peed in there (and he was fairly sure the campers did, too), and also, he and the sun did not get along. His pale skin didn’t really tan, it just burned, and the scattering of moles across his body made him a prime candidate for skin cancer someday.

No, he was planning to spend the day in the house or on the porch with a book, and maybe some music if he could get Uncle Luke’s old radio to work.

Ben pulled on a pair of denim cut offs (he had plenty of those, thanks to the growth spurt making all his pants too short even though they were a little loose at the waist still) and grabbed some cereal and a banana to eat on the porch swing while it was still cool.

By mid-morning, the sun had shifted enough that there wasn’t much shade on the porch and Ben wandered back inside to the only slightly cooler bedroom. There was a slight breeze again, and he could hear the tinkling of the windchimes on the corner of the house. It sounded almost like laughter—that must have been where the dream came from. Movement out the window caught his eye and he jerked around, staring out the window.

Oh.

Just a tree.

There was a small oak tree at the edge of the yard, barely more than a sapling really, and the leaves and smaller branches fluttered merrily. As sweat beaded above his lip, Ben had the thought that it might be cooler out there, in the shade of the tree line and without any walls to block the breeze. He pulled on a t-shirt and coated his exposed skin in sunblock, then generously sprayed his arms and legs with mosquito repellant. He went into the kitchen and grabbed a thermos and filled it with lemonade, pulled an old quilt from the side porch storage room, and tucked a battered copy of _The Scarlet Letter_ under his arm.

He’d been right, it was definitely cooler under the tree. There was less grass in the shade, because, well, _shade_ , but with the quilt it wasn’t too uncomfortable. He kicked his shoes off and stretched out with his book. He’d decided he would spend the summer focused on the classics, and hopefully be ahead of the game when the next school year started.

Also, he hadn’t thought to pack any books of his own and Uncle Luke only had classics, psychology texts, and weird spiritual/religious texts, so classics it was, at least until Ben could get into town next week and see if there was anything at the drug store or the tiny library that he hadn’t read yet.

The breeze stayed fairly steady, the rustling of leaves and occasional ringing of the wind chimes punctuated by sounds drifting up from the camp so often. He made it a few chapters in before he fell asleep, somehow feeling safe and peaceful at the edge of the same tree line he’d always thought creepy before.

He dreamed again, of soft, feminine giggles and someone tracing the shell of his ear. He woke up with a start, brushing at the side of his head and coming away with an oak leaf. Well that explained the ear thing. He reached for his thermos, cursing when he found it lying on the ground, empty. He must have forgotten to tighten the lid and knocked it over in his sleep.

Oh well. It was mid-afternoon and he was hungry, so he’d have to go back inside anyway. It was oppressively hot everywhere, but he decided it was still better outside in the shade, so he moved his quilt farther under the trees and went in to make a couple sandwiches, deciding he’d eat outside in spite of all the dirt and bugs.

After a bathroom break and collecting his food, Ben returned to his quilt and froze. Something was off. He felt like he was being watched, and his book had been moved. Ben stood, straining his eyes and ears for any unusual sound or movement.

There was a chittering sound from above, and something landed on the quilt with a plop, ruffling the pages of the book. He looked up, relaxing when he realized it was just a fat squirrel in the branches of the tree, eating acorns and dropping bits onto his quilt.

That must be what he had sensed.

He shook his head and sat cross-legged on the quilt, back against the tree and took a bite. He was halfway through his second sandwich when he heard the snap and a quick gasp. Ben stood more quickly than he’d realized possible and peered into the trees, heart pounding.

Nothing.

Wait, no, there, a flash of movement, something white darting behind a tree.

“Hey! Hey, you! Wait! Who are you and why are you watching me?”

He followed, long legs allowing him to catch up quickly as the figure darted behind a large oak trunk, the biggest in the area, the one Uncle Luke called Maz.

A girl. It was a girl.

She seemed to be pretty close to his age, and cute, from what he could see as she peered out at him from behind the tree, eyes wide and frightened. Ben felt bad for chasing after her then. He’d probably terrified her far more than he had been startled.

“Hey, it’s okay. I won’t hurt you. I was just surprised, that’s all. Are you from the camp? Did you get lost?”

She shook her head no.

“I’m Ben. Luke’s nephew. Do you know Luke Skywalker?” Ben pointed at the house and she smiled and nodded.

Okay, she wasn’t cute. She was pretty, beautiful even.

“What’s your name?”

She stepped out from behind the tree. Was she… Oh dear, yep, she was.

Ben looked away quickly, face flaming. “You’re naked.” Was that really his voice? All squeaky like that?

“Naked?”

_Don’t look. Don’t look. Don’t look._

“Ah, yeah, no clothes. Where are your clothes?”

She gasped again, more a sound of understanding than surprise or embarrassment, and there was a rustling sound. “Not naked,” she said firmly, sounding proud. He turned back slowly, not sure he should, and found her draped in something white and gauzy. Some sort of dress or robe, he supposed. Whatever, she was covered now, and he couldn’t see her…well… _her_.

“Rey,” she said, looking at him expectantly. He was confused a moment, still trying to remember how to think and form words. “Ben,” she said slowly, nodding at him, and then placing a hand on her chest. “Rey.”

“Oh, yeah, your name. Rey. Nice to meet you, I guess. Do ah…do you live around here?”

“Close,” she said. She wandered back to the edge of the yard, fingers brushing over bushes and tree trunks as she passed before reaching his quilt and settling herself on the edge, resting against the tree as he had been.

She closed her eyes, one hand reaching up to lovingly stroke the bark above her head. “Home,” she whispered.

Pretty she might be, but Ben was increasingly concerned about her. Why was she wandering the woods? Why was she wandering the woods _naked_?

Ben gingerly sat on the far edge of the quilt, putting himself in the direct rays of the sun. “Uh, Rey?”

“Hm?” She didn’t open her eyes.

“Rey, is someone looking for you? Do you need help to get home?”

“Home,” she said softly, patting the tree again.

He was tempted to go into the house and call down to the camp, ask his uncle if he knew any crazy teenage girls who wandered the woods naked.

Wait, that was weird and kind of gross.

His uncle wasn’t a pervert. At least, he didn’t think so.

Rey opened her eyes and smiled at him again. From this angle her eyes were as green as the leaves above her, and her reddish-brown hair seemed to almost reflect the same shade. “Ben,” she said softly, smiling again. Dimly he noticed the hair on her legs, surprised but not bothered by it. Most girls his age had been shaving for years now.

“Yes, I’m Ben, and you’re Rey. Can you tell me anything else? Your mom’s name? Or your dad? Do you know Old Man Kenobi up the hill? Is that where you live.”

She made a face, nose wrinkling, and put her hand on the tree again. “HOME.”

Did she think she lived in the tree?

Okay, no more family questions. He was getting a little scared now, and he decided he definitely was going to go inside and call his uncle. He was in over his head, and she could get hurt wandering the woods alone, especially naked and barefoot.

Ben wondered if he should take her into the house with him. No, not a good idea. Maybe she could stay on the porch. His eyes darted around, and he caught sight of his thermos, an idea forming.

“Hey, do you want some lemonade? We can sit on the porch?”

“Berries.”

“Blackberry lemonade, yeah. Uncle Luke made some this morning before he left.”

“Porch.”

Ben nodded and stood, holding one hand out to help her up without thinking about it. She took it and rose gracefully, her skin warm and surprisingly rough. She walked lightly, every step precise, as if trying not to damage the grass.

She settled on the porch swing with a contented sigh and Ben let himself into the house, pouring two frosty glasses of blackberry lemonade and adding a sprig of fresh mint to each. He paused in the front room, hand on the old rotary phone as he glanced out the window to reassure himself that she was still there. He lifted the receiver then put it back down as he heard his uncle call out.

Ben grabbed the glasses and hurried back out the door, relieved for once to have an adult around. He stared at the empty porch swing in confusion. It was still moving, swaying slightly back and forth, but the only thing there was a twig with two oak leaves and three acorns attached. Ben turned to his uncle, mouth open but unable to speak.

“I see you’ve met Rey,” Luke said, taking the second glass of lemonade, the one Ben had poured for Rey.

Ben blinked at him, looking from the oak leaves to the lemonade in confusion.

“Don’t worry, she’ll come back. She’s shy, gets overwhelmed easily. It isn’t easy to hold her shape with too many people around.”

“Wh-what?”

“Rey, she’s a dryad. Maz’s however many greats granddaughter.”

“Don’t say things like that. It’s not funny. I think…I think maybe she’s…you know, sick. Mentally.”

Luke settled into the rocking chair. “No, she’s fine. Probably just tired herself out holding a human form for so long. Especially if she had to manifest clothing too.”

Ben choked a bit, sputtering as he accidentally inhaled his lemonade rather than swallowing it.

His uncle rolled his eyes. “Grow up, Ben. Nudity is perfectly natural, and it doesn’t mean anything. Besides, like I said, she’s not human, and she’s older than you are, although the aging of her physical form will slow soon.”

“You’re crazy! That’s all impossible and she’s not going to get the help she needs if you humor her like that. I mean yeah, she said she lives in that tree and all but—”

“Wait, she actually spoke to you?”

Really? _That_ was the thing his uncle was surprised at? “Yeah. Only one-word answers but yeah, of course she spoke to me.”

“She must _really_ like you, Benny.”

Ben sighed and gave up for the moment. Luke was probably right. Rey _had_ seemed perfectly healthy, physically anyway, and mountain people were a little odd sometimes. He’d just have to try again next time he saw her. He finished his lemonade in silence and went to collect his things from under the small oak tree, pausing in surprise as he found the quilt neatly folded and his thermos (which had been full) completely empty with the cap off. A single oak leaf was tucked neatly into his book, marking his place.


	2. Summer Storm

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rey takes Ben for a hike and a swim, and then a storm rolls in.
> 
> _“Ben?”  
>  “Yes, Rey?”  
> “Not naked,” she said, sounding confused.  
> “Close enough.”  
> She sighed and he could hear her shifting and splashing in the water, then something tugged on his shirt. “Give,” she demanded, sounding resigned.  
> “Uh, it’s all sweaty.”  
> “Give!” She pinched him.  
> “Ow! Okay, fine, gimme a second.” He tugged his shirt off and held it to the side until she took it. The white gown landed in a sodden heap at his feet and he began to fervently wish he were interested enough in sports to recite player stats._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oak Rings playlist now available (and yes I realize most people aren't interested, but if you are check it out):
> 
> [Oak Rings Playlist](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/7xCuDwkz4gx6piy3Luzov2?si=ze62iGLdTTaSoCOz9AY8nA)

Ben didn’t sleep well that night. He should have, in theory, but every stray sound, every shift in the wind, had him awake and looking for Rey. Because he was sure she had been watching him sleep the night before, just like she had early that afternoon when he’d fallen asleep reading.

She wasn’t there, though, at least not that he could see from the window, and as the sun rose, he gave up on resting and wandered into the kitchen. Uncle Luke was outside, meditating, as he did every morning. Sunrise meditation and yoga before a breakfast of granola the texture (and flavor) of tree bark and sometimes (when he _really_ wanted to punish himself, Ben thought) plain yogurt, and then he would head to the camp for morning wake up and announcements.

Ben checked the refrigerator, surprised to find eggs and sausage inside. Uncle Luke must have brought them in the previous night and Ben just hadn’t noticed. He was grateful, though, and set about making himself a real breakfast. He had a feeling he was going to need it.

Uncle Luke didn’t seem surprised to see Ben already up, but then he probably wouldn’t _seem_ surprised to walk in and find his nephew had been replaced by a porcupine in glasses. Other than smiling when he got his way, Uncle Luke played it close to the vest. The beard helped.

After his uncle left for the day, Ben gathered the quilt and book again. The fresh pitcher of lemonade (strawberry this time) wasn’t cold yet, and he decided he’d come back in later rather than water it down with extra ice in the thermos now.

She was waiting for him by ‘her’ tree, wearing that same white dress from the previous day. He hadn’t realized how thin it was until she stepped into the direct sunlight, and he averted his eyes until they stepped back into the shade. She seemed paler than the day before, and he wondered if she hadn’t slept well either.

“Morning, Rey,” he said.

“Ben.” He liked the way she said his name, and the smile she gave him when she did.

She was barefoot again, but her feet were surprisingly clean. He wondered if she’d just stashed her shoes somewhere nearby. He dropped the quilt, intending to lean down and spread it on the ground but Rey grabbed his wrist.

“Come!” she said, tugging on his arm. “Come. See!”

He decided to humor her, at least for now. It wasn’t like he had anything better to do than wander the woods with a pretty girl, and it was _probably_ safe—Luke would have said something if she was dangerous. She led him deeper into the woods, hand sliding from his wrist to grasp at his fingers. Her free hand again brushed over nearly every tree and bush they passed, as if she were greeting each one. He winced as she stepped on what looked like a pretty sharp rock, but Rey didn’t seem to notice. She must do this often enough that she’d toughened the bottom of her feet. He couldn’t quite tell, because his own heavy footfalls crunched and cracked and echoed, but he thought she moved almost silently between the trees. He couldn’t see any clear path, but Rey moved with a definite purpose. It was getting hotter, and the air under the trees was heavy and humid. Ben’s shirt was already sticky with sweat before they even got far enough that he couldn’t see the house anymore.

He should have brought some water, he thought as he swatted at a mosquito. And more bug spray. Definitely more bug spray.

The trees got thicker as Rey led him uphill, the leafy canopy at least offering shade. The air wasn’t quite as heavy feeling here, at least he didn’t think so. He paused for a moment, wiping at his face with his shirt and pushing his sweat-dampened hair back. He was glad his mom had finally let him start growing it out, but it was hot and surprisingly heavy. He tilted his head a bit. He could hear…something. Splashing, maybe? They hadn’t gone the right way for it to be the lake at the camp, but the water for that had to come from somewhere. Ben looked up, unable to keep from smiling back at Rey when she grinned at him. “Close!” she called, gesturing him forward. “Come!” She turned and stepped between some leafy bushes, momentarily disappearing from his sight.

Ben followed and paused, mouth dropping open. The waterfall was small, barely more than a trickle over an outcropping, but it fell into a clear pool surrounded by green. They were standing at the top, overlooking a small clearing, the break in the leafy canopy enough to let the sun through but the mist from the waterfall and the cool water kept it from being too hot. Rey laughed and he looked up, realizing she was giggling at him, but it didn’t feel the same as when the girls at school laughed at or made fun of him. It was a happy sound, pleased, like she’d been hoping he would react this way and it had brought her joy. “Come!” she called again and began clambering down to the pool. He followed, having a little more difficulty than Rey seemed to. Of course, she knew this place. She probably did this all the time, knew the terrain and exactly where to put her feet, like a really cute mountain goat.

When he reached the bottom Rey grabbed his hand again and pulled him forward. “Rose!” she cried happily. He was confused. There weren’t any flowers here, other than something that might be daisies on the far side of the pool. Then he saw her. Another girl, shorter and curvier than Rey, but also quite pretty. She was crouched behind a rock, watching him with wide, nervous eyes. “Rose!” Rey called again. “Come!” She waved with her free hand, pulling Ben along with her as she stepped to the very edge of the water. “Ben,” she said. She wasn’t speaking to him, though.

Rose gasped and ducked behind her rock before peeking out again. “Ben?”

“Ben!” Rey cried happily. Rose smiled and stood up. Ben gasped and spun around.

Was there some kind of nudist colony around here or something?

“Clothes,” Rey said sadly. “Not naked.”

“Clothes,” Rose chirped, and Rey urged him to turn back around.

Rose had on some kind of dress similar to Rey’s in a soft blue gray color and she was standing in the pool on their side. Thankfully, even wet, the material wasn’t see-through. “Ben,” Rose said with a sweet smile. She turned to Rey and they both giggled. Rey stepped into the water, taking Rose’s hands in her own and Ben laughed, watching the two of them jump and splash like small children. Then he realized that Rey’s dress _had_ in fact gone transparent where the fabric was wet, and he turned away again.

“Ben?”

“Yes, Rey?”

“Not naked,” she said, sounding confused.

“Close enough.”

She sighed and he could hear her shifting and splashing in the water, then something tugged on his shirt. “Give,” she demanded, sounding resigned.

“Uh, it’s all sweaty.”

“Give!” She pinched him.

“Ow! Okay, fine, gimme a second.” He tugged his shirt off and held it to the side until she took it. The white gown landed in a sodden heap at his feet and he began to fervently wish he were interested enough in sports to recite player stats.

“Not naked,” she said softly, and he turned around.

She looked ridiculous, his shirt practically hanging off of her, but she was covered, and he’d grabbed a black shirt today so there wasn’t any danger of it going transparent. “Come,” she said, stepping back into the pool. Rose was treading water closer to the center and Rey smiled at him as she held her arms out and fell backwards with a splash. Ben yelped in surprise at the chill of the water on his skin. Somehow, the idea of swimming in the small pool wasn’t nearly as unappealing as the lake at camp. Of course, the water here was clear and clean, and, well, Rey was there in the water already, beckoning for him to join her and Rose. He sat on a rock at the edge of the pool and took off his shoes and socks. He’d worn denim cut offs again and he didn’t really want to have to walk back to Luke’s with them wet, but he also didn’t want to strip down to his underwear in front of Rey and Rose.

Although, to be fair, he’d technically seen them both naked now, and he was sure Rey had been watching him sleep and seen him in his boxers the previous night.

Also, it was hot and getting hotter, and they were too busy splashing one another again to pay any attention to him. Maybe if he hurried?

Fine.

Whatever.

He stripped off his shorts and waded in, wincing at the icy feel of the water before deciding Rey had the right idea and letting himself fall in.

He came up cursing and sputtering. Okay, maybe that _hadn’t_ been so smart…it was already better though. The water was deep enough in the middle and at the end near the fall for actual swimming, but Ben could still stand flat-footed. The deepest points seemed to be around his shoulders, so definitely over Rose’s head…

“ _Ben_!” they both called, waving him over to join them by the waterfall. It was basically the equivalent of a (quite cold) outdoor shower. They swam and splashed like children and laughed—oh how they laughed!

By the time he and Rey bade Rose goodbye and started the walk back, Rey still in his shirt and carrying her damp dress balled up in one arm, it was already early afternoon, and Ben was starving. He was also getting a little nervous at the dark clouds building in the distance. A storm was coming, probably a pretty bad one. The wind was already whipping the leaves on the trees, flipping them up to show only the silvery-green undersides, and it had to be some trick of the light that made Rey’s skin seem the same luminous silvery-green shade for a moment. The first flash of lightning came just as the house was in sight. He counted to twelve before the thunder rumbled, and he started moving faster. He wasn’t running, not yet, but he wanted to be inside before the rain started.

Ben didn’t like storms.

At all.

It was just all too much, the wind and rain and thunder and lightning…sensory overload, maybe. Or he was just a big baby afraid of thunder.

But as the lightning and thunder increased and the rain started pelting them, Rey looked about nervously too, and that actually made him feel a little better. He led her to the front porch and went in for towels and dry clothes. He brought a dry shirt out for Rey since her dress was still wet, as well as the shirt she’d taken from him earlier. He didn’t see her at first when he stepped back out, and he worried she’d run off to go home again, just as the storm hit. Then he heard a sound and turned, finding her curled up in the corner behind the porch swing, wedged in between the wall of the house and the support post that held up the porch roof.

Lightning crackled nearby, the boom of thunder immediate and nearly deafening and Rey yelped. She jumped off the porch and ran, just as another flash of lightning dazzled his eyes. For just a moment, her skin looked greenish again, and he thought there were leaves in her hair.

Rey cried out as she disappeared around the corner of the house and Ben leapt off the porch to follow her. His foot got tangled and he nearly tripped over the sodden fabric of his black shirt, the one she had been wearing.

And she’d left her wet dress on the porch.

Great, just great...Rey was naked again, in the woods, during a storm.

A flash of white just past the tree line drew his attention and he realized it was Rey, weaving in and out among the trunks, deeper into the little patch of woods between the house and the camp boundaries. He called out but there was no way she could hear him over the storm.

Another flash of lightning threw sparks over the tops of the trees and he knew this time something had been struck.

He heard Rey scream over the wind, over the rain, over the thunder. He forgot his own fear for the moment, chasing after her, crashing through the underbrush as branches smacked at his face and briars clung to his clothing.

He found her in the same place he’d caught up to her the previous day, but it wasn’t the same.

“Maz!” Rey sobbed, kneeling on the ground, forehead against the trunk of the large tree. He could smell smoke, hear the lick of flames. This was where the lightning had hit. There was an angry gash, a wide, charred furrow high up on the tree, and at least two limbs dangled precariously, creaking and groaning in the wind.

“Rey, you need to move before those branches come down.”

She gasped and turned, and Ben scrambled back, ending up on his butt on the ground.

She was…

She was…

Oh, God, Luke hadn’t been kidding.

Her skin really was green, the light silvery-green shade of the underside of oak leaves, with darker green patches along the edges of her face. Her veins were that same dark green, and her hair was a riot of green and brown and red with tiny sticks and leaves and acorns sticking out here and there.

She was otherworldly…terrifying…and still utterly beautiful.

He wasn’t sure how long he stayed there, sitting in the dirt and leaf litter and staring at her in awe as the rain broke through and soaked him once more.

Once Rey realized he wasn’t going to do anything, she turned back to the large tree, pressing her hands against the bark and whispering. It was oddly lyrical and yet nothing he recognized or could really even describe. It was the rustle of leaves in the wind, the quiet thump of falling acorns, the swish as leaves dropped off in autumn, and yet so very much _more_. There was something building, a humming sound growing around him, and he realized it was coming from the _trees._ All of them, in every direction. Occasionally he caught a flash of movement in his peripheral vision, but if he looked there was nothing there.

The creepy, watched feeling he’d always gotten from the woods came back as the humming increased, breaking into more inhuman whispers—chanting.

One of the broken limbs fell but Rey didn’t move, still kneeling with her hands on the trunk of the massive oak.

Ben could feel movement, behind him, and he turned, but again there was nothing. He knew it wasn’t the wind though, and it wasn’t the rain. _Something_ was there, something other than him, other than Rey. There was a shuffling sound, a swirl of leaves, and he could _almost_ see something— _someone—_ step around the large tree. If he glanced from the side, or up through his lashes, there was the vaguest impression of hands, dozens of hands, pressed against the tree, and the whispering was getting louder.

Something in the wind _changed_ , a low rumble that he could feel more than hear coming from…from the tree?

A cracking, groaning sound heralded the fall of the second broken branch.

The last thing he saw was a tiny woman—dryad, he supposed—with large eyes and a soft smile, just sort of appear from the trunk of the tree, placing a wizened hand on Rey’s head.

Ben woke up in his bed, soaked with sweat. What? How?

There was a sound from the next room and he sat up, half-expecting Rey or the old dryad to be standing there, waiting to punish him for…something. It was just Uncle Luke, though, pausing in the doorway. “Oh, good, you’re awake. How are you feeling?”

Ben groaned, rubbing a hand over his head.

Why did it hurt?

Oh, right…lightning, the tree, the branch.

“I had the weirdest dream,” Ben muttered.

“I figured. You were talking in your sleep.” Uncle Luke paused, studying him. “You hungry? Thirsty maybe?”

Ben nodded. “Yeah, yeah I could eat. Missed lunch.”

He shook his head. Dryads? Really? What else was he going to dream up this summer? Elves? Jackelopes?

“Rey will be glad to know you’re awake,” Uncle Luke called from the kitchen. “She’s been terribly worried. Wouldn’t even go back to her tree after she brought you to the house.”

“Uh, what?”

“ _Ben,_ ” the voice came from right outside his window. “Ben!” And she was there, smiling at him. Her hair was back to normal…or, well, human looking without all the leaves and sticks, but her skin still had that silvery green luminosity. He jumped, nearly falling off the bed. “Ben?” One hand came up, pressing lightly against the screen. He stared at her, chest heaving as he panted for breath. Her mouth tightened, the light in her eyes dimming. “Afraid?”

It hurt, the sadness on her face, in her voice, but he couldn’t deny it. “A little,” he admitted, licking his lips. He raised his hand slowly to the screen, pressing their fingertips together lightly before he pulled away. “It’s all new, strange to me. But…but I trust you, Rey. We’re friends, right?”

“ _Friends._ ”

She beamed at him, and it felt like the room got a little brighter when she did.

Ben had to take it easy the next day. Uncle Luke had dragged him to the camp medic (an LPN) once he woke, and apparently, she had checked him over while he was unconscious. She thought he was okay but might have a mild concussion from the glancing blow of the falling tree branch. He thought to spend the day under Rey’s tree, but the ground was too wet and the quilt (along with his uncle’s book—oops) was soaked through from being out in the rain.

He spent most of the day on the porch swing, Rey hovering nearby. He fiddled with Luke’s radio, eventually getting a station with something resembling music to come in without too much static. He could have brought out his discman, but he only had his headphones, no detachable speakers. He hadn’t expected anyone else would be interested in what he listened to, in anything to do with him, really. Rey hummed along with most of the songs, doing a decent job of catching the melody and predicting any changes. Occasionally she stood and swayed, a little smile on her lips. It wasn’t quite dancing, and he had to admit she looked very much like a tree swaying in the breeze.

_Dryad._

He’d broken down and pawed through some of Uncle Luke’s spiritual and religious texts, finding one about the Greek Pantheon with a small section on “Nymphs, Dryads and Other Nature Spirits.” He hadn’t read it yet, just tucked it under his pillow for later, worried he would somehow offend Rey by researching her…kind? Race? Species?

He wasn’t even sure.

But he was sure he wasn’t really afraid of _her_ , not of _Rey_. Maybe of the other…well, he assumed they were also dryads, the beings he had almost seen in the woods.

“Drink,” Rey said, pulling him out of his thoughts. She handed him the thermos Luke had left. “Berries,” she said, smiling at him. He nodded and took a sip. She’d been doing most of the day, prompting him to drink, patting the top of his head gently, careful to avoid the bump, then distractedly swaying and humming again for a while.

Around one he wandered into the house for some lunch, Rey hovering at the front door, leaning in but never actually crossing the threshold. Luke had wrapped up some leftover fried chicken from dinner at the camp the night before, and Ben decided that would do. He grabbed the chicken and what turned out to be a bowl of potato salad, more lemonade, and a fork. He decided to eat the chicken cold. It was hot enough outside that warm food was not at all appealing.

Rey wrinkled her nose and shook her head as she watched him eat, clucking her tongue and making sad little chirping noises. He was confused at first, until he realized she was looking at the chicken bones he’d already cleaned of meat. “Oh, yeah. Chickens are birds. Sorry, I guess? I didn’t…”

He trailed off and focused on the potato salad, not looking up until she reached over gently, fingers trailing lightly down the side of his face. She smiled gently. “Nature.”

She shrugged and he nodded. He supposed it did make sense. She’d probably seen a lot of prey animals hunted down.

“So…do you eat? Ever?”

She seemed to think about it, cocking her head to one side. “Eat? No. Drink. Berries. Rain.”

It was the most she’d said at once.

She gasped and her head snapped up, looking at the winding road that led to the drive. There was a rush of wind and then she was just gone, a lone oak leaf drifting down to settle on his thigh.

Ben looked up as the familiar car pulled into the drive. His parents had come, both of them. They were supposed to be in Europe for some diplomatic thing.

His father got out stiffly, refusing to look at him…or at his mother.

Ben had a sinking feeling as they approached him. They weren’t actively fighting. He’d learned by now that was a bad sign.


	3. Seasons Change

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ben stays with his uncle longer than expected, but he doesn't mind so much as long as Rey is around. At least not until a developer threatens the camp and the neighboring farm-the farm that is home to Rose's pool. 
> 
> _He sat in the shallow water, gaping up at them as they directed serious gazes at him. “Friend,” Rose said, pointing from herself to Ben. “Friend,” she repeated again, this time pointing from herself to Rey. “Mate?” she questioned, pointing from Rey to Ben._  
>  _“Young,” Rey said softly._  
>  _Rose seemed to understand. She tilted her head to one side, studying Ben. “Small trunk,” she said sagely, “Green.” Rey nodded her agreement, and Ben suddenly felt a momentary impulse to defend himself._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, fast forwarding through time here. This chapter covers about a year.
> 
> CW/TW for minor character deaths, eco-terrorism, non-consensual hallucinogenic drug use - see end notes for details.
> 
> Um, yeah, so it took a SLIGHTLY darker turn than I intended.

In the past week, Ben had learned four new facts:

His uncle was a Druid.

Rey was a Dryad.

Rose was a Naiad, a kind of water nymph.

His parents were getting a divorce.

Somehow, it was the last one that was hardest to believe. It wasn’t that they seemed all that happy or anything, more that the fighting and “trial separations” and making up and then starting all over again had just seemed normal and inevitable, an eternal cycle with no end.

So much for that.

They’d offered a choice, boarding school or stay with Luke for longer, while they “settled things.” His mother had seemed surprised he chose his uncle. His father had just looked at him and glanced away, muttering “bet it’s a girl at the camp.”

He was half right anyway. Well, if by “girl” he meant “otherworldly tree nymph named Rey.”

He’d stayed in a kind of a daze, only half aware of what he was doing for the next few days. Rey had hovered, seeming concerned, but he couldn’t bring himself to even try to explain.

Finally, the following Thursday, more than a week after the storm that was his parents had shaken him more thoroughly than a bunch of dryads chanting in the woods during a literal storm, he looked at Rey, opened his mouth, and asked if they could go swimming with Rose again. Rey had practically dragged him through the woods to Rose’s pool.

He’d worn swim trunks, and had dry clothes for himself, an extra shirt for Rey, and some snacks, water, and lemonade in a backpack. When he pulled out the thermos, Rey gave an excited cry. “Berries! Rose?”

Ben nodded. He’d brought enough to share. He pulled a second thermos from the bag and Rey launched herself at him with a squeal of delight, grabbing it and beckoning Rose over. Rose seemed doubtful, sniffing at the thermos after Rey opened it, and darting questioning looks at Rey. “Berries!” Rey insisted, shoving the thermos at Rose.

Rose wrinkled her nose and grudgingly took a tiny sip. She sat a moment, considering, then she licked her lips and her eyes widened. Rey giggled as Rose turned the thermos up again, a trickle of lemonade running over her chin and down her neck. “Berries,” Rose said with a soft, shy smile aimed at Ben. He looked away, hoping they didn’t understand about blushing.

“Ben. Rose. Friends.” Rey said, a soft smile of her own aimed at him and he could feel the tips of his ears burning.

“Yeah, friends. We’re friends, the three of us,” Ben agreed. He jumped a little when Rey’s fingers wrapped around his hand.

“Friends?” She sounded…sad?

He looked back at her in confusion. Rose was looking at them both in confusion. “Mate?” she asked Rey. Ben sputtered, toppling off the rock where he’d been sitting and landing in the pool with a splash.

He sat in the shallow water, gaping up at them as they directed serious gazes at him. “Friend,” Rose said, pointing from herself to Ben. “Friend,” she repeated again, this time pointing from herself to Rey. “Mate?” she questioned, pointing from Rey to Ben.

“Young,” Rey said softly.

Rose seemed to understand. She tilted her head to one side, studying Ben. “Small trunk,” she said sagely, “Green.” Rey nodded her agreement, and Ben suddenly felt a momentary impulse to defend himself.

They weren’t wrong though, not really. He _was_ young. And…kind of scrawny?

“Friends.” Rey said softly, finally smiling at him again. “Now.” Something about the way she said _that_ word sent a shiver through him—a good one.

As the height of summer passed and threatened to turn to an unbearably humid autumn, Ben spent nearly all of his time with Rey, and they visited Rose every few days. Rose couldn’t venture far from her pool, but it turned out she could at least follow the streams that fed it and the three of them explored as far as Rose could go.

Some days they spread the old quilt under Rey’s tree and Ben read to her from the books on Luke’s shelves. Others he hauled out Luke’s radio or (after Threepio made the trip with a second carload of Ben’s belongings) his discman and speakers. She hummed and swayed regardless of the kind of music, yet somehow it always seemed to fit, and as the weeks passed by them, she began speaking in short phrases, sometimes managing up to six or seven words at once. When summer storms rolled through, they sat on the porch, taking turns flinching and yelping. Fortunately, there wasn’t a repeat of the storm that resulted in lightning striking Maz.

School started and Ben found the small town public high school was much the same as the private academies his mother had sent him to before. There were no uniforms, and clothing ran high to jeans, tee shirts, and flannel, but the cliques were still there, the classes were mostly boring, and there were still a few kids who made it their purpose in life to make him miserable.

Less so, but enough.

It didn’t bother him so much anymore, though. Mostly he kept his head down, put in enough effort to keep his grades up, and counted down the hours until he could go back to Luke’s—more specifically back to Rey. For his birthday, she joined Ben and Luke on the porch for blackberry lemonade as Ben opened the professionally wrapped gifts his mother had shipped to Luke’s, then the ones from Luke wrapped in old newspaper and brown bags. Ben was surprised when Luke handed him a bundle of oak leaves. “Rey brought you something, too,” Luke said. Ben looked up at her and she smiled softly. “Gift.”

He wasn’t sure what he expected, but it wasn’t this. The leaves fell away to reveal a small, shallow basket, woven from the smaller branches of her tree. “Carry. Berries and food.” He smiled at her. She’d made him a picnic basket.

One Saturday in mid-September he realized her hair was changing colors. It had gone from glossy brown with reddish undertones to a deep auburn with golden highlights. Her skin tone had changed as well. No longer was she the luminous silvery-green of the underside of oak leaves. No, by September her complexion had a golden hue. Come October, her hair was a glorious, fiery red and she almost seemed to glow in the sunlight. She spoke in short but complete sentences.

In November, her hair darkened again. Then it started to thin. It wasn’t obvious at first, but eventually he noticed that what remained of the once-silky strands were almost straw-like, and by Thanksgiving there were light streaks shooting through.

By the time the branches of her tree were bare, her hair had gone completely white, and looked more like spiderwebs. Her skin had paled, too, looking almost gray at times, and the dusting of freckles on her face and shoulders was just…gone. Even her dress was dingy and tattered, more like a shroud. She didn’t talk much anymore, didn’t dance. He realized she was getting thinner, as if she were wasting away. If she were human, he would be sure she was starving to death, or wasting away from some disease.

Luke assured him she was fine, that it was normal for dryads to reflect the state of their trees as the seasons changed, and that she probably didn’t have the energy to make herself look more human for him. Seeing Ben’s discomfort with the idea that Rey might feel the need to pretend for him still, Luke also pointed out that she clearly enjoyed spending time with him enough to use the energy she _did_ have to maintain a corporeal form.

By early December, she couldn’t stay solid for more than a few minutes, eventually unable to manifest separately from the tree at all. Ben took to bundling up and leaning against the trunk of her tree, talking to her, and convinced he could sometimes hear a happy sigh in response. At Christmas, he strung multi-colored lights in her branches, and carefully tipped warm (not hot) cider and vegan cocoa over her roots. The entire tree shivered, and for just a moment he thought he heard the echo of her voice. He hadn’t been sure he’d be able to find his way alone, but he took some of the cider to Rose, too. He didn’t see her, but the thermos was empty when he went back the next day, and neatly centered on the rock where he usually sat beside a smooth, rounded stone with swirls of color.

Late January brought the first snow, and Ben woke to delicate footprints from Rey’s tree to his window and back. He smiled, waved through the window, and snuggled back under the blankets with another grin as the branches rattled back at him.

February brought another hard freeze, and Ben was beside himself when he realized the ice in Rey’s tree was dragging the limbs down. They wouldn’t break, he didn’t think, but…well, what if it hurt?

Luke didn’t laugh when he brought it up, considering it carefully. “I’ve never thought about it, although maybe I should have. I think…well, at this point of the year she’s probably mostly sleeping. I doubt she can feel it. It’s…a dryad and their tree are closely linked but not exactly the same entity. More like both parts of a whole.” Ben nodded, wanting his uncle to be correct.

It was still cold in March, and they got one more snowfall, but the hints were there, green buds and the birds were starting to come back. Spring would come soon. Spring…and Rey.

It was a Tuesday afternoon, the first time she was able to manifest again. She trembled as she walked, almost like a newborn animal, as if she were just learning to use her legs. Her dress was a soft, buttery yellow, and her hair was a golden shade, somewhere between blonde and brown, like good sourwood honey. He could almost see the dusting of freckles across her nose and he took it as a sign they would be back by summer.

She didn’t talk, but she smiled and made little sounds he could almost decipher. They walked in the woods, wandering aimlessly, and ended up at the edge of the camp. It had been closed since the end of summer, Luke going in weekly to check on things, but otherwise abandoned. It was a flurry of activity in spring, though, repairs and upgrades being made to the cabins and other buildings and the horses being brought back in from where they’d been boarded through the winter at Old Man Kenobi’s farm.

Loud, angry voices caught Ben’s attention and he turned. _Uncle Luke_ was _yelling_ at a tall, slim man in a business suit. Ben couldn’t quite make out the words and took a step, intending to move closer. Rey gasped and clung to his arm, tugging him back and trembling. She was strong, stronger than he’d ever consciously realized, and she managed to get him into the tree line again. “Bad. Bad man,” she managed to whisper, going pale. Ben wasn’t sure if that was from fear, dragging him away, or the effort of speaking. He looked at her, then, concern for Rey overriding anything else.

“Let’s get you back,” Ben said, turning back the way they had come. He could ask Luke about it later.

He didn’t get to ask Luke about the man that night because they had an unexpected guest for supper. Well, unexpected by Ben, at least. Luke seemed to have known Ben’s father was coming, and as they sat stiffly at the kitchen table Ben realized it was because Han Solo had been at the camp for at least two weeks.

And no one bothered to tell Ben.

He wasn’t shocked his father hadn’t bothered. They weren’t exactly close. But Uncle Luke…Ben hadn’t thought his uncle would keep things from him.

Ben stood from the table and actually managed three steps before turning back and grabbing his plate, carrying it into his bedroom and slamming the door.

He didn’t get to ask about the man for another two days, and then Luke just brushed it off, insistent that there were always developers after the camp, and this latest one was no more of a threat than any of the others.

Ben wasn’t an idiot. He knew the camp wasn’t making any money, not really, but Luke and his mother had inherited a couple of family fortunes along with the camp and surrounding land, and his mother had made several investments that paid off exponentially. Even with the money they donated on a regular basis, Luke could run the camp for decades and never have to worry about the funds to stay afloat.

Old Man Kenobi died in April. It was Rey who told him, after Rose found the man slumped by one of the streams that fed her pool. Uncle Luke called the Sheriff, and Ben didn’t think much about it until the battle for the old man’s farm started.

He hadn’t had any family, and no one could find a will. Luke had apparently expected Ben to inherit the farm, which was confusing to Ben. Why would the old man leave him anything? They didn’t even know each other, really.

Ben only half paid attention as Luke and his mother spent hours on the phone every night, and his father came by almost every night as well, talking to Luke about whatever they had learned that day.

Ben got interested, though, when he overheard something about a developer wanting to block off all the streams that ran through the farmland.

Rose!

She was tied to her pool, and those streams fed into it.

She could be in danger.

He made the mistake of confronting Luke about his concerns without being sure his father was gone. Han Solo overheard and chaos ensued.

Ben stormed out while his father was accusing Luke of “stuffing the boy’s head with nonsense” for the third time. He didn’t even acknowledge Rey as she fell into step beside him, following the now familiar path to Rose’s pool.

As soon as they reached the property line, Ben froze.

The trees...the trees had been tagged for logging.

 _All_ of them.

The growling sound Rey made had him turning slowly, and the picture she made was terrifying.

Leaves and twigs wound through her hair, ripped trough her dress. Her fingernails were long, curved talons and her eyes shone red. Her hair blew wildly about, enough that he could hear the rasp of the leaves and sticks that had wound and woven themselves into a kind of crown on her head, but there was no wind.

Whatever was happening was all Rey.

A cry of outrage escaped her, and she swiped at the red plastic ribbons tied around the trunks. The talons sliced through easily and Ben backed away, heart pounding.

Rose. He needed to check on Rose and put some space between himself and Rey.

Rose was curled at the edge of her pool, and as he got closer, he could hear her crying. “Rose!”

She lifted her head and Ben gasped. Her eyes were completely black, and her normally healthy, golden skin had a purplish-blue tone. She was holding…a fish? Yes, two, no three dead fish and a turtle, cradled in her arms as she sobbed. He realized there were more around her on the ground, and at least one duck.

He approached her slowly, cautious. He could still hear Rey’s screams of rage behind him, and it didn’t sound like she was alone anymore. That same strange, hissing, whispered chanting echoed as the trees shook in a wind that didn’t blow. The other dryads had arrived.

Ben shivered, keeping his eyes on Rose. She hissed a warning at him and darted around a rock. He couldn’t help noticing that she didn’t go into the water.

He turned, going back up to the top of the fall and following the tiny stream. He didn’t have to go far before he saw it. A container of some sort, bright yellow with warnings printed in multiple colors and languages.

Someone had poisoned the water supply.

Poisoned _Rose_.

And tagged the trees for logging.

Someone knew about them, about Rose and Rey and others like them.

He kicked at the container until it was out of the water. Not that it would do much good; it was almost empty already.

He looked at the stream again. If the poison had been dumped here, maybe…

Ben ran back to the pool, calling for Rose. He heard a whimper and found her curled behind that same rock, the one he sat on when he and Rey came to swim.

“Rose, upstream,” he gasped, “The poison…if you get upstream…will it be better?”

Her only answer was another whimper. He stepped closer. Rose didn’t look so good. The blue tint of her skin was gone, replaced by the unhealthy green of pond scum. He reached out tentatively, putting one hand on her arm, and almost jerking back when he realized she felt slimy.

“Rose?”

“Ben,” she said softly. “Friend.”

“Yeah, we’re friends Rose. Let me help you. Can I help?”

She smiled and closed her eyes, breath rattling in her chest as she wheezed.

He wasn’t sure it would do any good, wasn’t even sure he _could_ do it, but he managed to get her up on her feet, half-carrying her around the pool and up along her waterfall.

He could smell it now, something foul in the water, and he tried to keep his own breathing shallow.

It might be his imagination, but it seemed like Rose was getting lighter. He glanced down. Her hair was coming loose in great clumps, and her skin was an almost translucent silvery shade.

He braced himself and picked her up completely. He couldn’t run, not carrying Rose even as she wasted away in his arms, but he walked as quickly as he could until he passed the place the container had been dropped. He kept going, angling closer to the stream on instinct. He hadn’t gone this far before, and he was surprised to come across another pool, larger than Rose’s.

He paused, gasping for breath. Rose was…heavier?

Hopefully, that was a good sign.

He braced himself and prayed to who-or-whatever might be out there that he was doing the right thing as he stepped into the water.

It wasn’t as deep as Rose’s pool, only waist high, but it was _cold._

Rose gasped as her body met the water’s surface. “ _Paige!_ ”

Ben managed not to scream as another naiad rose up from the water in front of him, eyes black and teeth bared at him. “Can you help her?”

The other naiad stared at him before reaching out slowly. She didn’t speak, but she ran a tender hand over Rose’s arm before reaching around her own neck and removing a necklace he hadn’t even seen. She stared into his eyes as she looped the cord around Rose’s neck, removing a nearly identical one from Rose.

_Leave her here, she will heal._

He heard her inside his head. A gentle voice, like water over rocks and soft spring rain. She squeezed Rose’s necklace in her hand and something…flashed. The unknown naiad started to fade away right before his eyes, and somehow Ben knew she was dying.

Dying in Rose’s place.

“Wait! No! What are you doing?”

_A willing sacrifice._

The pendant dropped into his hand.

_Go._

Ben stumbled back to the point where the container had been dumped in the stream, dropping in the pendant. A flash of blue light erupted from the shallow water where it hit and then spread, flowing downstream on the current.

He climbed shakily back down the rocks. The fish and turtles and the duck were still there, lifeless by the pool, but there weren’t any new ones floating on top of the water and the pool smelled sweet again. He sat for a moment, needing to rest before he headed back to Luke’s. Rey found him there, approaching hesitantly. “Ben?”

He looked up at her and…she was beautiful. Her dress hung in shredded tatters, and her face and eyes still had a reddish sheen, her nails were dark but no longer the razor-sharp talons. Her skin had a pattern to it, like the bark of her tree, and as she got closer, he reached out, finding the side of her face just as rough. Leaves and twigs still wound through her hair, but the crown of oak leaves had mostly fallen away. He stroked a thumb over her cheek and leaned in, placing a soft kiss on her lips.

“Mate?” she asked curiously.

“One day.” He smiled at her. “Still green, remember?” Her laughter was still bells and windchimes.

The will turned up three days later. Rey showed up with a watertight container and handed it to Luke. “Rose,” she said. “Paige. Safe.”

Luke hadn’t been wrong. Old man Kenobi had left everything to Ben, with provisions for his mother, uncle, and father to have equal authority over the inheritance until Ben was of age.

Apparently, they’d all been close once, close enough that Ben was named for him.

It meant the logging was stopped, the property boundaries fenced off, and the land itself was already under the protection of several angry dryads and a naiad whose territory had tripled when Rose’s sister—Paige—sacrificed her power to save Rose.

Nymphs and nature deities cared little for things like property lines.

Ben spent the summer exploring his new property with Rey and Rose, drinking lemonade and splashing in Rose’s new home pool. He had been surprised she didn’t grieve her sister, but when he tried to ask about it, Rose had stared at him in confusion, cupped her hands in the water, lifted them, and said simply “Paige,” as the liquid dripped between her fingers.

The evenings were spent with Rey, stargazing or talking or reading—and kissing. There was definitely more kissing.

Everything should have been perfect, and it almost was for a while.

Just before Ben’s sixteenth birthday the developer, a Mr. Snoke, came back, showing up at Luke’s house when Ben was home alone and pushing him to agree to sell the land. Ben refused, and the man left in an angry huff, swearing, and insisting he would have the camp _and_ the neighboring farm if he had to ‘set fire to the dryad’ himself.

Ben was upset enough at the threat that he slipped up again, telling Luke the uncensored version of events without realizing his parents—both of them—were there, having come for Ben’s birthday over the weekend.

The panic, the months of anger at his parents, the resentment at always being left behind, it was all too much, and he lost control of his temper. He punched his father, flipped the table, and stormed out to the yard, telling Rey what had happened in an effort to calm himself.

Unfortunately, she wasn’t manifested at the time, and when his mother followed, finding him talking to a tree, she panicked and dragged him to the hospital for evaluation.

The doctors found hallucinogens in his system, traced them to the lemonade.

He wasn’t allowed to see his uncle anymore.

He wasn’t allowed to see anyone other than Dr. Pryde and his staff, not for a very long time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> End Part I
> 
> So, what do you think? Was it all just his imagination? Or is more going on? (Hint, it's definitely that second one).
> 
> TW/CW:  
> Obi Wan Kenobi death "offscreen"  
> Paige Tico death-non violent, as a willing sacrifice to save Rose.  
> Rose's pool and the stream feeding it are poisoned in an act of eco-terrorism by a developer.  
> Luke is accused of drugging Ben with hallucinogens, leading to Ben being institutionalized for a while. 
> 
> Next chapter will start part II, after time jump of almost 20 years.
> 
> [Oak Rings Playlist](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/7xCuDwkz4gx6piy3Luzov2?si=ze62iGLdTTaSoCOz9AY8nA)


	4. Kylo Ren

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 19 years, a change of name, a job at First Order Properties working for Mr. Snoke, and a burning need to exorcise the demons of his past bring adult Ben Solo—now Kylo Ren—back to the family property.  
>   
>  _Barefoot and clad only in a pair of black sweatpants, he stomped around the house. They were probably still on that same corner. He heard them again, mocking him as he rounded the back of the house, fists clenched.  
> _  
>  _He didn’t bother even looking to see how they were hanging, if there was a chain or a string and whether there was a hook or they were permanently mounted, just grabbed and pulled, jerking the whole thing down (along with a chunk of old wood from the eaves) and throwing it to the ground, taking pleasure in the last, mournful reverberations as they clanged together a final time. He glared at the tree line as if daring the woods to do something about it before going back around the house, back to the side door._  
>   
>  _The breeze kicked up as he turned the corner and he stumbled as if pushed, cursing as he stepped on...an acorn?_  
> 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, welcome to part II! It’s not stated explicitly in this chapter, but 19 years have passed since chapter 3.
> 
> CW/TW-character death (see end notes)

The door opened with a low groan, shuddering as it grudgingly gave way. He had to duck a bit to enter, but at least he was able to stand up once inside. The house seemed smaller than he remembered.

Of course, he hadn’t been quite sixteen the last time he’d been there, and he’d had a system full of drugs to burn through and a lot of growing to do. He supposed it made sense, that the place would seem smaller now. He stepped through the front room into the first of the three tandem bedrooms, dropping his bag on the bed and making a face at the stale, musty smell in the house.

“Ren? Are you still there?”

The nasally voice was distorted over the earpiece, but he could still hear the other man (unfortunately). “Yeah, Hux, I’m here, but who knows for how long. Signal around here is still shit.”

A disdainful sniff filtered through. “And that is only one of the myriad things we shall attend to once we can break ground.” He grunted in response, fighting with the window until he managed to raise it and let in a faint afternoon breeze. The old paint around the frame had oxidized, leaving chalky trails on his jacket where the material brushed too close as he moved.

_Well, fuck…_

He shrugged out of the suit coat, swiping at the pale patches on the black fabric before giving up and dropping it on one of the two full beds in the room. He ignored Hux’s prattling as he rolled up his black shirtsleeves and went into the second bedroom to fight with the pair of low windows there. He paused in the doorway of the third bedroom.

No. Not necessary, and he wouldn’t even be able to stand up without hitting his head on the slightly sagging ceiling. He backed away, pulling the door firmly shut behind him before crossing the middle bedroom and stepping out into the dining room, stubbing his toes and stumbling over the raised trapdoor platform that gave access under the house for plumbing purposes and had once been a storage cellar before the one at the back of the house had been dug out. He’d forgotten about that. He glared down at the orange floral carpet while his whiny, red haired coworker droned on.

He sighed as Hux continued to talk at him, going over the same information they had covered multiple times already. Finally, eventually, the other man ended the call and he stumbled through the door onto the storage porch and back to the tiny, narrow bathroom.

The local handyman he’d paid an exorbitant amount of money to check in on the place had assured him everything was in working order but he found himself doubting that as he turned the knob on the sink and was rewarded by a screaming, groaning moan from the pipes followed by a loud clanking before a tiny trickle of stale water dripped slowly into the cracked sink.

Why had he agreed to this, again?

The water increased to a slow, steady stream and he stuck his hands under before splashing his face. He sighed as he stared into the mirror, for a moment seeing only the wide-eyed, pimply faced, confused teenage Ben Solo in place of the cold stare of well groomed, confident (and, admittedly, arrogant) Kylo Ren, COO of First Order Properties.

His hands shook a moment and he closed his eyes, breathing slowly before looking in the mirror again. He saw only the man he expected once more. If his eyes were a little wide, he told himself it was just because it had been a long drive and the lighting was too dim.

He opened the side door and crossed the grass to where the expensive and completely impractical sports car was parked, retrieving his briefcase, another small duffle—leather, of course—and the paper bag of greasy take out he’d been forced to pick up in lieu of a real dinner. First order of business tomorrow was going to be groceries…and maybe an air conditioner. September weather was still a bitch in the area, and he had become accustomed to the comforts afforded by surrounding himself in state-of-the-art technology and automated _everything_. He glared at the house a moment before going back inside. This was closer to “roughing it” than he had ever intended to get again.

He’d already decided to sleep in the middle bedroom. That one had the best chance of a cross-breeze, and the queen bed was still a bit small, but it was the largest in the house and sat on the highest frame, so at least he wouldn’t feel like he was sleeping on the floor.

Well, technically, the front bedroom off the kitchen would have the best breeze, with windows on two sides and doors on the others but that had always been Luke’s bedroom.

_Luke._

His lip curled in a sneer.

His mother claimed Luke was better, had even been released from the institution (the same one where she’d tossed her son away for a few years). Who knew where he’d gone after that? Even his mother barely heard from her twin anymore.

Apparently, her having her brother committed and holding him responsible for what he’d done to her son had _strained their relationship_.

The camp had been closed since Ben was seventeen. His father had given it a go, tried to keep it running with the help of the existing staff, but once word got out about Luke and the things he’d done to his own nephew, drugging him and convincing him freaking fairy tales were real, no one would send their kids back, even though Luke was safely locked away. Han hadn’t bothered trying again.

Even after that, Han had stayed at the house, taking care of the Skywalker lands and the Kenobi ones that technically belonged to his son.

At least until a year ago.

Kylo still didn’t know why he had even answered the call. Despite cutting himself off from them, he’d kept all the family contact information up to date. He’d always told himself that it was so he knew what calls _not_ to answer.

But for some reason that day his mother’s name and number were displayed on the screen of his smart phone and he accepted, maybe from surprise…it had been a long time since she had attempted to contact him. He thought she had given up, and that was what he wanted. Or at least he wanted to believe it was.

He hadn’t even been able to understand her at first, she was crying so hard as she told him the news. His parents never actually got back together, but neither of them ever saw anyone else either, and had managed to maintain a far healthier relationship—remaining actual friends—once they no longer lived together. Leia Organa-Solo was still Han Solo’s emergency contact and only listed next of kin once Ben had changed his name and therefore no longer technically existed (at least as far as Kylo was concerned), so of course she was the one who got the call, the one saddled with passing on the news when it happened: Han Solo had suffered a massive heart attack in the yard of the old family house. He was already gone when the neighbor found him and called it in.

One phone call, and Kylo Ren was suddenly Ben Solo again, lost teenager who only wanted his family to be a _family_ , and now that would never be possible. It had made him angry. He’d nearly destroyed his office, but his boss, Mr. Snoke, President and CEO of First Order Properties, had been pleased. He’d waved a hand at the destruction. “Just things, my boy. It can all be replaced. It’s good to see you reacting to things, letting it all out. I think this is long overdue. I’d like to see you embrace your anger, _use_ it. Come, join me for lunch. I want to discuss some things with you.”

Kylo was grateful his boss had given him the chance to prove himself. He didn’t know what Snoke saw in him (well, other than direct access to the lands he’d wanted for years, but until the past few months that had never even come up). Snoke had believed in him, helped him change his name, build a reputation, fast tracked his progress through the company. There was an unspoken agreement that he was being groomed to take over when (if) the old man was ready for retirement.

Now, this trip, was his chance to start repaying the man for all he had done.

Snoke hadn’t asked about buying the land, finally starting the project he’d planned for decades.

Kylo had _offered_.

He wanted to be rid of the responsibility, the memories, the pain.

He wanted to be _free._

He slept fitfully that night, stretched diagonally across the bed, jerking awake at every sound carried in on the breeze. And the dreams…a mix of memories and nightmares, filled with dead fish and angry trees and the face of a girl who had never existed.

He woke before sunrise and groaned. Being back after so long…it was messing with him already.

Kylo stumbled to the kitchen, fumbling with the coffee maker he had prepped the night before, switching it on manually as he was awake at least an hour before he had set the timer to start the brew. He’d inspected the cabinets and refrigerator. A few essentials—mainly bottled water, cheap coffee, and some protein bars—had been dropped off by the handyman (for an additional fee, of course—Kylo actually respected that). He shook his head and grabbed his phone, dictating his shopping lists between sips of (horrible) coffee.

Groceries.

Air conditioner(s).

Boots and jeans so he could walk the property—he couldn’t remember the last time he’d worn jeans, but he wasn’t about to sacrifice a bespoke suit or custom Italian leather shoes just to look things over, make sure Hux hadn’t missed anything on his previous trips.

He figured a day for the Kenobi farm, another for the camp, and maybe a third for Kenobi’s house—assuming it hadn’t collapsed in on itself—and he could be out of there and never have to return…at least not until the trees were cleared and the buildings leveled to make way for Supremacy Luxury Villas—Snoke’s pet project, an exclusive mountain resort.

Kylo glared into the dregs of his coffee before standing and dumping the remainder in the sink. As he headed for the bathroom, hoping for a shower but not counting on enough water pressure, he heard the damn wind chimes again and changed direction.

Those were coming down.

_Now._

Barefoot and clad only in a pair of black sweatpants, he stomped around the house. They were probably still on that same corner. He heard them again, mocking him as he rounded the back of the house, fists clenched.

He didn’t bother even looking to see how they were hanging, if there was a chain or a string and whether there was a hook or they were permanently mounted, just grabbed and pulled, jerking the whole thing down (along with a chunk of old wood from the eaves) and throwing it to the ground, taking pleasure in the last, mournful reverberations as they clanged together a final time. He glared at the tree line as if daring the woods to do something about it before going back around the house, back to the side door.

The breeze kicked up as he turned the corner and he stumbled as if pushed, cursing as he stepped on…an acorn? He glared back at the trees again. Maybe he’d help with tagging them for logging, get everything cleared faster.

His errands ended up taking far longer than he had anticipated, but he returned with clothes, a receipt for a window unit, a rolling “portable AC,” and two decent fans, and a few bags of passable food. Unable to stomach even the idea of more greasy take out, he had grabbed a rotisserie chicken and pre-made salad at the deli counter of the only grocery chain in town (the family owned one had been packed and the produce stands were all sold out and closing up for the day by the time he was finished at the hardware store).

He stared around the front room, wondering if the sagging window could even support the first of the AC units, but it was too big for the bedroom windows.

Oh well, that was the installer’s concern.

He ate what should have been his lunch but was instead an early supper and waited for the man to arrive. Kylo had been surprised to find the “local handyman” was actually the owner of the local hardware store. He seemed genuinely friendly, good-natured, and helpful. It was a little sickening, really, but when he offered to come after his part time evening staff arrived to deliver and install the AC units that night rather than the next afternoon, Kylo had readily accepted. An overly cheerful person around for a few hours versus not being able to close the windows seemed a fair trade.

The sound of a vehicle pulling into the gravel drive had him looking at his watch. The man was prompt. Kylo could appreciate that. He was almost at the door when he heard the knock and opened it to find not one but two men on the sagging porch.

“I hope you don’t mind, my husband came along to help. Figured we can get this taken care of for you twice as fast,” Finn said. Kylo stared at the second man in surprise as Finn continued, “Mr. Ren, this is my husband—”

“Poe Dameron,” Kylo said, stepping back from the doorway. He froze for a moment before squaring his shoulders and offering a hand.

“Solo, er, sorry, _Ren_ ,” Poe said, giving a nod and a firm, professional shake.

Finn looked between them, realization dawning as he apparently connected the old gossip he had undoubtedly heard to the man before him. He didn’t say anything about it, though, just pulled a tape measure from his pocket and pointed to the window in the front room. “Is this where you want the window unit?”

Kylo nodded and Finn crossed the room, taking some measurements, fiddling with the window, and knocking on the wall around it. Kylo stood in silence. He could acknowledge the awkwardness of the situation without showing it, but Poe was shuffling about nervously, occasionally making an attempt at small talk, which Kylo ignored.

The couple went back outside to their truck, making a couple of trips to bring in tools, plywood, some sort of sealant, and the AC units. While Finn worked on prepping the window in the front room, adding support for the unit and evening out the sagging frame, Poe looked expectantly at Kylo. “Where are you planning to put the portable? There’s a vent hose that needs a window or the heat will just recirculate.”

“Ah, second bedroom back,” he said, pointing. Poe nodded and wandered through the first bedroom, disappearing into the door opposite, presumably checking the room to see where it was best set up. Kylo wandered into the kitchen for a water bottle, more to avoid the other men than any real need for immediate hydration.

He mostly ignored and avoided the two men, other than offering them cold water a couple of times—he wasn’t a _monster_ —and sighed in relief when the air conditioners were both running with a low hum. He immediately began closing windows and doors, sealing off the rooms he wasn’t using, before stepping back into the front room.

Finn was looking at him with something akin to pity and Kylo braced himself, unsure which tragedy of his life was about to be acknowledged. Finn cleared his throat and held out a business card. “Well, you should be all set, this is the local heating and air company, they’re really good, so if you have any problems or decide to upgrade, I recommend calling the number on there.” Kylo took the card with a nod. “I ah, I’m really sorry about your dad. He was…” Finn’s voice broke and Poe put a hand on his shoulder. “Sorry, ah, he was a good man. Really proud of you. I…even though you and I never met before now, I felt like I knew you, from the stories he told.” Kylo’s eyes widened in spite of himself. His father had talked about him? Positively? To other people?

Kylo hadn’t even thought Han Solo liked him…

“Anyway, we’re going to go now,” Poe said, leading Finn out the front door and pausing on the porch to look back at Kylo. “I’m really glad you’re better,” Poe said, “After all—well…” Poe glanced away, shook his head. “Anyway, you look good, clearly you’ve done well for yourself, and I can even understand why you’re selling the place, but I think it’s a mistake.” Then they were gone, crossing the yard and climbing into their truck without another word.

He fell into an exhausted sleep not long after the couple had gone. He must have slept a handful of hours when the nightmares came again, this time his father standing with Rey beneath her tree, giving him disappointed looks and sorrowful sighs before turning away and building a fence around the woods.

Her jerked awake and shook his head. Why was he hearing bells?

It was faint, muffled with the windows shut and almost drowned out by the low hum of the air conditioners, but the tinkling melody of wind chimes haunted him even into wakefulness.

He stood and stumbled to the kitchen for water, scrolled idly through his email until he thought maybe he could sleep again and then returned to the bedroom.

Movement at the second window made him jump until he realized he could see his own reflection in the glass. It must have been that, had to be, but for a split-second he’d thought he could see her, Rey, staring solemnly through the glass; imagined he could hear someone whispering his name, the old one. _Ben._

He spent the rest of the night with his feet hanging off the lumpy, too short sofa in the front room.

The shrill chirping of his cell phone woke him at 6:34 AM. _Hux._ Kylo rubbed a hand over his face, ran the fingers through his hair, and groaned. He didn’t like hearing from that man at the best of times. He certainly didn’t want to listen to him whine first thing. Before he had decided whether or not to answer the call rolled into voicemail, but Hux called again immediately. With a sigh he answered, putting the device on speaker and barking a gruff “What?” by way of greeting.

“Well, and a lovely good morning to you as well, Ren. We need to have a chat. My wife is with me, so make sure you’re decent. We arrive in eleven minutes.” Hux ended the call and Kylo cursed at the ceiling.

He needed coffee. Copious amounts of coffee, maybe a vat of the stuff big enough to drown the ginger man.

He’d never met the wife. Honestly he’d forgotten the man was married.

And why the hell was he bringing his wife _here_?

Kylo heard the gurgle of the coffee maker kicking in and stood, wandering through to the bedroom, digging through the previous day’s clothing purchases for heavy work jeans and a black t-shirt.

He had just managed the first sip from his coffee cup when he he heard it.

_Wind chimes_.

The sound was unique to the ones he’d torn down the previous day, a set his uncle had made. He stomped out the front door and around the house, nearly falling off the sagging porch in his haste. Someone had hung the wind chimes back up—in _that_ tree. They swung merrily in the breeze, tied with some sort of red bow. As he got closer he realized they were the flags the crew had started using to mark off the trees for logging.

What kind of sick joke…

With a growl he tore at the plastic, the chimes, the tree itself, snapping off a few twigs and shredding some of the leaves that were just beginning to turn. He hefted the chimes in one arm, attempting to keep them from clanging together, ignoring the bits of bone mixed in among the metal and glass and wood. There were some tools in the shed. Rusted for sure, but still good for smashing.

He was halfway across the yard when the black, luxury SUV turned into the drive, rolling to a stop behind his sporty black two-seater.

Hux climbed out, dressed casually in jeans and a navy blue t-shirt of his own, black sunglasses firmly in place. It was almost disturbing, seeing the other man in anything but a bespoke suit complete with waistcoat and a set of matching tie and pocket square.

The passenger door opened and closed, the mysterious Mrs. Hux walking around the back of the vehicle so Kylo wasn’t able to see her.

“Ren.”

“Hux.” A light step crunched near the back of the vehicle. Any moment now Kylo would lay eyes on the woman who had willingly tied herself to Armitage Hux.

She rounded the back of the vehicle and Kylo gasped, taking a stumbling step backwards.

“I believe you know my wife,” Hux said, unaffected as Kylo stumbled again, struggling to stay standing before giving up and tumbling to the grass. He gasped as the red haired man wrapped an arm around his wife.

His _wife_ who was very familiar to Kylo Ren. Or had been once, to Ben Solo.

He struggled to breathe, gasping again before he was able to choke out the name.

_“Rose.”_

Kylo was so busy staring at the woman in front of him that he almost didn’t register the light step behind him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CW/TW: Han Solo died of a heart attack the previous year.  
> Grief, family drama, emotional trauma all stirred up.  
> Also mention of Leia having Luke committed.


	5. Tables and Doors

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kylo Ren comes face to face with his past, and it’s overwhelming.
> 
> _“Ren, are you listening?” He jerked, forcing himself to turn his head away and look at Hux. “No, of course you weren’t,” the other man muttered. “Again, I will ask, have you ever paid any mind to the door in Snoke’s office, or the wall paneling? Noticed anything odd about his desk or the conference table?”  
>  “What, you mean the weird patterns in the wood that look a little bit like faces? That’s just the wood, from the rings and the way it was cut and processed.”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This turned out more emotional than I initially intended. Kylo/Ben is just a yoyo of feelings...

Kylo twisted, looking behind him as someone walked closer, half-expecting Rey the way he’d seen her that day Rose nearly died, or maybe the old dryad he’d half-seen the night of the storm.

The last being he expected was his uncle.

He scrambled, scooting across the paving stones until his back hit the porch steps, panting for breath as he stared at the man. “You stay away from me!” he barked, voice shaky.

“ _Ben._ ”

And there she was, Rey, stepping out from behind his uncle (she was taller than Luke, how on earth had he missed her).

His eyes rolled back in his head and the world went dark.

He blinked awake with a groan, a dark blur hovering above him. He blinked again, then squeezed his eyes shut and pinched the bridge of his nose. Had he been drinking the night before? That could explain the strange hallucinations. Especially on top of being back in the family farmhouse. Or there could be chemicals, from the air conditioners. That could totally happen.

A soft touch brushed over his forehead.

“Come on, tiger, open your eyes and let’s get you sitting up. There’s not much time and we have a _lot_ to tell you.” He opened his eyes, blinking a few more times until he was able to focus on Rose. She was kneeling beside him, leaning over and staring at him with sympathy. She pulled a penlight from her shirt pocket and clicked it on, shining it in his eyes and then gripped his wrist, staring at her watch for a moment. Oh, checking his pulse.

“You’re a doctor?”

“Pediatrician, actually,” she said, finally releasing his wrist and grinning at him. “Sorry I don’t have a lollipop or animal shaped eraser for you. I’ll get you next time.”

He felt his lips twitch, almost smiling in spite of himself.

“You’re lucky Rey caught you. Could have done some serious damage on the bricks here,” Rose said, nodding at the porch steps. She didn’t give him any time to react or respond before asking “Do you think you can sit up?”

He thought about it, really considered, and gave a slow nod. “I think so.”

“Take it slowly.”

Rose hovered, one hand steadying him between the shoulders as she sat up and looked around him. They were all still there: Rose kneeling beside him, Hux standing a few feet away and watching her, Uncle Luke sitting cross-legged in the grass near his feet, and Rey.

Rey knelt across from Rose, hovering further away, just barely in his field of vision.

“What…I don’t understand. That whole summer, that year, it wasn’t…it was just the drugs.” He balled his hands into fists, pressing them against his eyes and mumbling to himself. “Not real, all in my head, it can’t hurt me, not real.”

“Ben,” Rose began.

“THAT’S NOT MY NAME ANYMORE!” He winced. He hadn’t actually meant to scream in this poor woman’s face. This woman who wasn’t Rose, couldn’t be, because Rose didn’t exist. But she’d said Rey’s name, could _see_ Rey.

Was he imagining the conversation too?

No.

Maybe?

He shook his head.

It was a coincidence, that’s all. She looked like his imaginary friend and his mind was filling in the rest. He saw her, thought she was Rose, and that just brought everything rushing back, the delusions. Hallucinations. Psychosis.

He should call Dr. Pryde.

“Ben—KYLO, look at me. I am real. So is Rey. You aren’t imagining anything. You never did.”

_NOnoNonoNOnoNono._

His hands tangled in his hair, tugging roughly at the long strands. Maybe the pain would break him out of it.

Warm fingers, rough to the touch, came to wrap around his wrists, thumbs stroking gently over the back of his hands.

_Rey._

He let go of his hair, lowered his hands to his lap. Rey let him, stepping back again. He didn’t look at her.

Couldn’t.

Because she might not actually be there and if he looked up and didn’t see her it would break him, finally and completely.

“I never drugged you Ben, and I never lied,” his uncle said, still calmly sitting by his feet.

“No, that was all Snoke,” Hux said, stepping forward. Even his voice was different, less whiny and not so nasal and with the trace of…was that an Irish accent? Huh…he’d always thought the ginger prick was just English. “It was easy enough,” Hux continued, “the pair of you never locked the door. He or whomever he had paid to do it that day just walked right in every morning and added the drugs to the lemonade pitcher while you were in the woods with Rey and your uncle was at the camp. Old bastard’s been after this place for a very long time, and it’s not about the resort, not about money. He wants power. _Their_ power.”

Kylo stared, unable to process what he was hearing. He folded his legs in, unconsciously adopting the same pose as his uncle, and staring at his hands in his lap, palms obsessively sliding over the denim covering his knees. He didn’t realize he was rocking until Rose put a hand on his shoulder. “It’s a lot, and we would give you time if we could, but there _is_ no time, Ben.” He opened his mouth to protest the name and she glared at him until he gave in, looking down.

Hell, if Rose and Rey were real, maybe Kylo Ren was the one he’d imagined.

“Okay…okay…so tell me what’s really going on here.”

It was chaos as everyone tried to talk at once…three times. Eventually Rose took charge, ushering them all onto the porch, guiding Ben into the nearest chair—an old wooden rocker—despite his protests that it would collapse if he tried to sit on it. Rey and Luke both took offense and then gave him smug smiles as he settled and the wood groaned a little but nothing else happened. Luke took the other chair, a metal glider with oxidized paint and rusted bolts, and Rose led Hux to the old porch swing. Rey folded herself on the porch floor, leaning back against a support post and somehow managing to look graceful and elegant as she folded her legs in close. Her dress was green, a Greek chiton in a soft mint shade. He couldn’t seem to stop looking at her and she was staring boldly at him, not saying anything. Not _showing_ anything.

“Ren, are you listening?” He jerked, forcing himself to turn his head away and look at Hux. “No, of course you weren’t,” the other man muttered. “Again, I will ask, have you ever paid any mind to the door in Snoke’s office, or the wall paneling? Noticed anything odd about his desk or the conference table?”

“What, you mean the weird patterns in the wood that look a little bit like faces? That’s just the wood, from the rings and the way it was cut and processed.”

“No, that’s the souls of the dryads he’s trapped and drained.” Luke sounded offended, angry, the metal of the chair creaking ominously as he shifted, leaning over closer than his nephew was comfortable with _anyone_ being to him right at that moment.

“Right.”

“It’s true.” Rey stared up at him, from her seat at his feet. It was the first thing she’d said, other than his old name. “He’s taken so many. Yoda. Lor. Ahsoka. Jyn. Wedge. So many others. And now he’s powerful enough he’s coming for Maz…and for me.” One lone tear slipped from her eye, rolled alongside her nose and over her lips before dripping off her chin and soaking into her dress. Then another, and another, more and more tears leaving lines on her face, dark spots on her dress, like fat raindrops as she cried silently, staring desperately up at him with pleading eyes.

He couldn’t move, couldn’t look away. He’d seen her frightened, joyful, enraged…but this sadness, this soul deep sorrow was new, and too much. His hand came up, then dropped again onto his knee. He swallowed past the lump in his throat. “He can’t have you,” he said, voice soft but determined. Rey leaned forward, forehead pressed against his knee and his fingers traced lightly over the top of her head, stroking the reddish-gold strands beginning to show among the glossy brown and a green so dark it looked black.

She felt real, solid.

“He nearly took her once, a few years ago,” Rose said softly.

“Rose interfered,” Hux said, taking his wife’s hand and threading their fingers. “She saved Rey but ended up being captured herself. It’s how we met.” Hux raised their entwined hands and kissed her fingers, almost absently. “He kept her in his office, his latest prize. He couldn’t steal her power, but he could keep her prisoner, make sure she couldn’t protect her pools.”

Ben, because there was no use fighting it anymore—he was (had to be) Ben again—looked at Hux and Rose, eyes narrowed in thought. “The office remodel, that stupid empty fish tank he put in beside the conference table…was that…?”

Rose nodded slowly.

“Until it was installed and filled, he kept her chained in a bathtub.” Hux’s secret accent was creeping in again, and his eyes flashed dangerously as he spoke.

“I still don’t understand. You were Snoke’s number two until I—”

“Stole everything I’d worked for and thought I wanted? Yes. I _was._ ” Hux looked away, jaw clenched. “Rose was…unexpected. Meeting her, learning the truth…even I have some morals Re—ah, Solo. Keeping a woman chained in a bathtub wasn’t something I could abide, but I had to act carefully, do my research. At least when he moved her to the tank, it was filled with waters from her pool.”

“Armie screamed like a little girl the first time I let him see the real me, with the black eyes and all,” Rose said with a bright smile, laughing as her husband flushed.

“Now, see, I still don’t understand. You’re a naiad, you are supposed to be literally bound to your pool. How did Snoke even take you?”

“Bad man,” Rey whispered softly, face still pressed against Ben’s knee. “Stolen power, old. _Dark_.”

Luke’s hand clenched on the arm of the chair. “Snoke is an abomination,” he said. “He’s twisted, dark, a product of corrupted magic.”

Ben stared at his uncle. “Magic?”

“You seem doubtful. There’s a naiad on your porch swing, a dryad at your feet, and a Druid Priest sitting beside you. Yes. Magic. Corrupted, dark magic that upsets the natural balance in the world. Snoke has to be destroyed.”

He blinked at Luke. “Are you suggesting killing a man? Because that really is too far.”

“No. I’m suggesting destroying an unnatural _thing_.” Ben looked around, seeking some kind of help from the others, but even Hux seemed resolved.

“Not human,” Rey said softly, her head still resting against his knee. “A creature, made by Palpatine.” She shivered just saying that name. Something about it seemed familiar but he wasn’t sure why.

“Palpatine was my predecessor, he was supposed to watch over the forest, protect everyone and everything living there. But he went dark, hungry for power, and figured out a way to…siphon it off, I guess. My father…stopped him, but it was at the cost of his own life.”

It clicked then, where he’d heard the name. His parents had been whispering furiously one night, about his grandfather murdering someone in a land dispute, then dying before he could be charged. It was why his mother and uncle hadn’t been raised together.

“I think we’re getting off track, lost in the details,” Hux said, leaning forward. “The point is, we need to stop Snoke. You have to refuse to sell him the land.”

“I, it’s too late for that. The papers were signed before I came up here.”

Hux cursed.

Luke cursed.

Rey cried out.

“What name?” Rose asked calmly.

“Huh?”

“What name did you sign? What name is on the paperwork?” His eyes widened as he realized where she was going with it.

Hux cursed again and kissed Rose with a loud smacking sound, then pulled out his phone, scrolling through his contacts like a madman. “Phasma! Have the papers been filed yet, for the resort?” He paused, listening intently as the First Order in house attorney answered. “Hold them, do NOT file those papers…Yes there’s a problem. Kylo Ren hasn’t the authority to sell. The lands are in trust, under Ben Solo, and the deeds were never transferred, nor were the trust documents updated, when he changed his name.” He listened another minute or two before ending the call and looking up. “I’ll wager Snoke is here by the end of the day, entire legal department in tow, to take care of the oversight, but my brilliant wife just bought us some time.”

Ben stared at Hux. “You knew, didn’t you, you knew all along that the paperwork hadn’t been updated.”

“I did. Bloody relieved _you_ didn’t ever catch on, though.”

“I can’t believe Phasma missed it.”

“You don’t know her as well as you think you do. She didn’t miss it, she’s the one who told me.” Hux shifted uncomfortably. “I just…forgot about it.”

“Good thing you told me,” Rose said, elbowing him gently in the side.

“The memory of water,” Hux said softly, looking at her in a way that made Ben feel like he was intruding on an intimate moment.

“Wait, if Phasma knew, what was all that about on the phone just now?”

Hux gave him a look that said plainly Ben should already know the answer to that. “Snoke was listening in, of course. Even if he isn’t in the room with her and making her take the call on speaker, I’m certain he has microphones in all the offices.” Ben nodded. That was probably true. He’d likely tapped the phone lines as well. Snoke was thorough and, at least Ben had always _thought_ , overly paranoid.

Another thought occurred to him, and Ben looked at Hux. “Wait, you said Snoke was the one drugging me, there were definitely hallucinogens in my system, so if all the things I thought I imagined were real, what—” He trailed off, unsure exactly what he was even trying to say.

“Rose,” Rey said, looking up at him with a soft smile. “Washed it away. And I guarded your dreams.” Her face fell. “When I could.” She leaned against his knee again, and it seemed only natural to let his fingers trail through her hair again. After a moment he realized she was toying idly with the ends of his pants legs, fingers running over the denim at his ankles. She giggled, holding up a hand. “Rose!” Rey’s fingertips were blue. As she turned, he realized there were blue smudges on her forehead and cheeks as well and he couldn’t help a chuckle of his own. Rey grinned up at him and the laughter came again, bubbling up into full belly laughs, then suddenly _he_ was the one crying but he couldn’t have said why.

“It seems we’ve broken him,” Hux muttered, setting off the laughter again.

It felt… _strange_.

Ben couldn’t remember the last time he’d laughed. Possibly not since he was fifteen.

Nineteen years.

Had it really been nineteen years since he’d been happy, even for a moment?

Yes. Yes, it had. He’d forgotten what it could feel like. And he didn’t want to lose the feeling. Swiping angrily at his face he looked up, turning to face his uncle.

“How do we destroy Snoke?”

They had a plan. Well, sort of.

Okay, so it was more of an idea they might be able to try if the moment were to present itself.

Regardless, for the moment all they could do was wait. Ben was antsy, anxious. Rey had gone into the forest, to update the other dryads, try to warn Maz and set up some protections.

Hux and Rose had gone to ‘check on her pools,’ and the scorching looks between them made Ben very certain he did not want to be anywhere nearby.

Luke had gone…somewhere. He mentioned something about the camp, and the old Kenobi place, and had been muttering about protections and reinforcements as he left.

So Ben was alone in the house…alone with years of confused memories and the crushing weight of a lifetime of regrets.

He wandered the house, blankly moving from room to room as he picked things up then replaced them. In the closet in the second bedroom, he found a box on the shelf, shoved to the back. His name had been written on it, his father’s scrawl somehow both foreign and achingly familiar, and below that a date only weeks before Han Solo’s fatal heart attack.

Ben dropped the box as if it had burned him, jumping back as it hit the old wooden floor with a thump.

It hadn’t been sealed, the cardboard flaps just tucked under one another, and the contents spilled out when it fell.

Letters.

What seemed like a lifetime of letters, all addressed to him in some manner:

Ben Solo.

Kylo Ren.

COO’s Office, First Order Properties.

And all were marked with some variation of “recipient not at this address” or “delivery refused, return to sender.”

Most were in Snoke’s unmistakable spidery handwriting.

There were years’ worth of correspondence, and in the bottom of the box, a leather-bound journal. His hands trembled as he opened the cover, flipped to the first page. The writing was shaky, off center. Even on lined pages Han Solo had managed to write in a curve, almost like sound waves. Half the words had been scribbled out and rewritten, so that a short message took up over half of the A5 page.

Despite that it was oddly formal, diction and syntax that didn’t sound at all like his dad.

Han had clearly put thought into what he wanted to say, poured out so many words that wouldn’t come when they were face to face, and constantly angry at each other.

_Dear Ben,_

_I know you hate me, and I don’t blame you._

_I don’t have long left, and there are things I need to tell you. I’m not great with feelings, just ask your mother. Hell, you know it too._

_And words are hard._

_The first is that I love you, and I’m proud of you. I should have told you. Often. And LOUD._

_I told other people. I should have told you._

He flipped the pages, eyes blurry as he tried to skim over the various notes and letters in the book, occasional lines and phrases jumping out at him.

_Met Rey that day._

_Should have believed you._

_Your mother thinks I’m crazy too, now._

_Pryde works for Snoke. They wouldn’t let me in to see you._

With each page, his father’s writing was messier, larger letters taking up more and more space, seeming hurried and desperate.

_Rey misses you._

_Something happened to Rose that day._

_I like Finn. He’s a good kid. He reminds me of you, even though it doesn’t seem like you would have much in common. Good hearts though._

On and on, a third of the way into the journal, until one final scribble he couldn’t make out, and a dried oak leaf, taped to the facing page.

He didn’t even register the arms around him at first, too busy grieving for the man he hadn’t ever really known, mourning everything they should have been but never managed.

Rose was strong for a woman so tiny. Although dryads had supernatural strength, so it made sense that naiads would too. Her arms banded around him like iron (although she did seem to have a little trouble getting her arms to meet around him, no longer than they were) and she managed to keep him upright even when his body refused to do so. He sighed and let her support him as the whirlwind of emotions settled for the moment, leaving him numb.

He hadn’t grieved for his father the way he was _supposed_ to, not really, and hadn’t believed he ever would.

Apparently, he’d been _very_ wrong.

“Rey’s going a little crazy outside,” Rose said softly. “She can _sense_ how upset you are, so when you’re up to it, you should let her see you’re okay, physically anyway.” He nodded slowly, head pressed against Rose’s shoulder. He could hear Rey, now that he’d calmed a bit. He couldn’t _understand_ her, but he could _hear_ her.

With Rose’s assistance he stood, still shaky. She kept a hand on his back until he felt steady enough to walk on his own. He made it all the way to the porch, to Rey, before he nearly collapsed again, sitting on the top step as Rey flitted nervously around him. Her skin tone had lost the glow she’d had earlier, and her hair was a tangled mass wound through with broken twigs and dried, crumbling leaves. Her dress was a dull, dirty tan with rips and tears all over.

“Ben?”

“I’m okay, Rey. Just…”

“Sad?”

“Yeah.”

He bit his lip and nodded, looking away from her for a moment. She took a step closer, holding one hand up as if she wanted to touch him but wasn’t sure he would let her. He took a breath and sat up, taking her outstretched hand and tugging her forward, pulling her into his lap before he could second guess the action.

She let out a yelp of surprise as she tumbled against him. He smiled at the sound and steadied her, the two of them readjusting until she was perched across his thighs, curled in against his chest. She ran a hand over his shoulder, down across his chest, looking up at him in awe.

“Not green,” she whispered.

“Not anymore,” he replied, voice equally soft.

“Thick trunk.” She gave his chest a pat.

He shifted uncomfortably. She hadn’t meant it that way, but he couldn’t help but hear the innuendo.

Rey gave him a pleased look and squirmed a little in his lap.

Oh. Maybe she _had._

Her head snapped up, and she bared her teeth, a creaky growling sound coming from somewhere deep within her.

He heard it then, tires on gravel.

It sounded like an entire convoy.

_Snoke._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Oak Rings Playlist](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/7xCuDwkz4gx6piy3Luzov2?si=ze62iGLdTTaSoCOz9AY8nA)


	6. Root Systems

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A final showdown with Snoke, information overload, some much-needed closure, and Ben meets Rey's relatives.
> 
> _This wasn’t like the end of the year. It was just the end.  
>  Nineteen years.  
> Snoke had stolen over half his life.  
> He wasn’t going to take Rey, not again._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW/CW (See end notes for details):  
> gun violence  
> explosions  
> threat of violence against children  
> mention of pregnancy (minor/supporting character)
> 
> [Oak Rings Playlist](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/7xCuDwkz4gx6piy3Luzov2?si=ze62iGLdTTaSoCOz9AY8nA)

The gravel crunched as the line of black SUVs rolled towards the house, the first two parking along the side of the road as the third pulled into the drive, passing the one Hux and Rose had arrived in and parking beside the ridiculous sports car Snoke had insisted was the only thing suitable for the image of Kylo Ren. Two more followed, one parking beside Hux and the other pulling longways across the drive, blocking any entry or exit there.

The doors on all five opened in unison as the occupants climbed out.

Hux had been right, the entire legal department (one attorney, one paralegal, and two legal secretaries) were there, as well as Snoke’s personal security details (both of them), and the foremen of the logging and demolition crews. Ben was surprised at the man who climbed out behind Phasma, straightening his suit as he stood calmly beside her. Why had she brought her husband along? She’d always gone to great lengths to keep him away from anything First Order related, even refusing to attend office parties or family retreats.

Rey hadn’t disappeared this time, and she struggled against Ben’s hold as he tried to tuck her behind him as Snoke finally exited the vehicle, having waited for his entourage to gather around him.

Ben was no fool, every one of them would be armed, and it was likely Snoke was planning an ‘accident’ that would rid him of everyone he considered a nuisance. He hadn’t come just to get a paperwork issue corrected, not with this many people.

Had there really been a time—only recently—that he’d had no problem with the man’s cutthroat tactics?

Snoke looked at him and Ben squared his shoulders. “Kylo Ren. You disappoint me, my boy, associating with such rabble.” The old screen door opened with a creak and Rose stepped onto the porch, followed by Hux. Snoke turned to them, scarred face twisted in a sneer. “I suspected your betrayal as well,” he directed at Hux. “You have been unreliable ever since taking up with that _creature._ ” Rose put a hand on her husband’s arm, fear on her face as she tilted her head to one side. “I have taken precautions to ensure you won’t interfere.” Snoke held out a hand and there was movement behind him, one more person in the SUV.

One very small person, climbing to the edge of the seat, little legs swinging, and it was Hux’s turn to hold Rose back as she screamed in rage and fear.

“Kiandra, love, where is your brother? Where is Kieran, and why are you with Mr. Snoke?” Hux called.

“Fairy man came to play with us, Da!”

“Did he, now? And what have you played?”

“Hide and seek! It’s Kieran’s turn to hide.” The little girl’s lip trembled. “He hided a long time ago but the fairy man said it’s not time to find him yet.” Rose’s feet came off the ground, Hux’s arm around her waist the only thing keeping her back.

Ben had a sick feeling he understood their caution the last few years, and the enormity of the risk they had taken to come to him. Rey stepped around him, his grip on her having loosened in surprise when the child appeared in Snoke’s vehicle.

“Come, Ren. We will resolve this little name issue, and then everyone can go about their day while you and I take a little walk and tie up loose ends.”

“No.” Rey’s voice was calm, clear, and he heard the hollow tone of the windchimes she had put back in her tree that afternoon as an unnatural wind whipped from the stand of oaks behind them. The whispers started, a furious rasping of voices, layered one over the other. It took every ounce of self-control not to turn around as Ben sensed movement behind him, heard the soft rasping swish of footsteps in the grass.

“This place is sacred,” Luke’s voice came from behind him. “You are not welcome here.” More steps. It sounded like a small army had come out of the woods. It was a terrible idea, but Ben couldn’t _not_ look anymore and turned his head, glancing behind him. Dryads, dozens of them, and a few of the male ones…what was the word…Drus, slipped out of the tree line, that unnatural wind whipping around them. Poe and Finn were with them, a few other people and elemental beings, and the impression farther back in the trees suggested more were coming.

He turned back, surprised to see a few more figures had come around the back of the house. A woman who must be another naiad based on her black eyes and the golden blue luster to her skin (not to mention the dripping wet blue-grey shift dress she wore) stood beside a vaguely familiar blonde woman—Kaydel? Yes, Kaydel Connix, the camp lifeguard that dated Poe when they were teenagers.

Snoke’s mouth tightened and he glanced to his left.

Alarm bells went off in Ben’s head as Snoke gave a sharp nod and his lips curled into an evil smile. “You make this so much easier,” he said.

The demolition crew foreman pulled out a two-way radio and pressed the button. “Go.”

A series of explosions rocked the ground, the dryads screaming in agony as flames erupted in the forest.

Rey dropped to the ground, on all fours and gasping. “ _Maz._ ” The name was a mere breath across her lips, a whisper of wind, before Rey managed another shuddering gasp and _screamed_.

Chaos.

Ben had a series of impressions, sights and sounds his mind couldn’t quite connect.

He was on the ground, as was most of their side, several unconscious and bleeding from the ears.

Snoke had Kiandra, one arm around her waist and the other in a cruel grip around her chin and jaw. The threat was clear, get too close and he’d snap her neck.

Ben’s skin crawled with dark sensation. _Evil._

Rose launched herself from the porch and fell short, a glimmer of _something_ at her wrists and ankles.

A dull, rumbling hum built in intensity as the ground beneath him vibrated.

A little boy appeared from somewhere past the house, creeping slowly forward in an odd sort of sideways crouch. It was almost like he was crab walking. Kieran? It must be. He looked too much like Kiandra to be anyone else.

Ben’s ears rang, and he realized at least part of the roaring wind sound had been the effect of the concussive blast on his hearing. Snoke’s people seemed to be faring far better, and as Phasma pulled out her ear plugs he realized why.

Rey was still crouched beside him, whimpering and trembling, and he knew she had only stopped screaming because she _couldn’t_ scream any longer.

The crew foremen had locked themselves into one of the SUVs and seemed to be struggling to start the engine. The legal secretaries and paralegal had piled into their SUV and disappeared with a squeal of tires.

Snoke’s security detail had pulled their weapons and were busily spreading out among the “reinforcements” Luke had recruited. A few wild shots proved guns were no threat to dryads and for the moment the bodyguards were occupied with grappling the figures not writhing on the ground as their trees burned.

Motion near Snoke’s SUV drew Ben’s attention again and he shook his head, sure he wasn’t possibly seeing what he thought he was seeing.

Because it was impossible.

Impossible that Phasma’s husband had sprouted a crown of oak leaves and acorns, skin a shimmering silvery green as his eyes fairly _glowed_ an angry, reddish brown.

Kiandra squirmed and Snoke was distracted enough he didn’t even notice Kieran creeping up beside him until the boy was within reach and…bit his knee? Snoke dropped the girl and raised a hand to bat the boy aside, but he never managed to complete the swing, his arm captured in an iron grip by Phasma’s husband.

Phasma was…where was she? Oh. There. He saw her crouch beside Rose, a light touch of _something_ in her hand to Rose’s wrists and ankles, and a set of heavy shackles and chains just appeared on Rose’s limbs as if they’d always been there before dropping off.

The change in the tiny naiad was instantaneous and she launched herself at Snoke with a growl like the rumble of a waterfall.

Rey stumbled to her feet and made it three steps before falling again, then crawling slowly forward. Ben groaned and tried to stand up, unable to manage it as his head swam. Taking a page from Rey’s book, he tried moving forward in an unsteady crawl, pausing in horror as the grass beneath his hands shriveled, going yellow and then brown before withdrawing into the ground. The soil left behind dried and turned an ashy gray, a sour smell coming up from the ground. He glanced back, and it was happening all around. And not just the grass. Any plant life shriveled and crumpled. Weeds fell to ash; flowers dropped their blooms as the stems drooped. Even the trees sagged, branches suddenly emptied and reaching listlessly to the ground. The bare earth showed in snakelike patterns, flowing thicker back toward the trees.

No, not snakelike. Roots…it looked like a massive network of tree roots.

_What was happening?_

An ominous groaning sound came from what seemed to be every tree in the area.

Rey reached the struggling forms of Snoke and Phasma’s husband. Rose had backed away, children in her arms as Hux struggled to reach them.

Snoke’s security teams, the ones not bested by injured dryads, rushed the struggle. At least two of them carried axes.

_No._

Rey had reached Snoke, struggled to her feet as he broke free of the hold Phasma’s husband had on him, an evil smile on his twisted face.

“Mine at last,” Snoke hissed, long fingers wrapping around her upper arm as he pressed whatever was in his right hand against her forehead. “The little princess. You will be the key to my immortality.” Rey whimpered and it was like the seasons were passing in fast-forward, her body growing thinner as her hair changed colors and began to fall loose to the ground as her skin went grey.

This wasn’t like the end of the year. It was just the _end._

Nineteen years.

Snoke had _stolen_ over half his life.

He wasn’t going to take Rey, not again.

Ben managed a step, and then another. He reached the first of Snoke’s security and gave the man a shove. Another stepped into his place and Ben batted him aside, lost in a haze of fury. He heard a popping sound and his side stung. Huh, maybe he’d gotten scratched. Two more bodyguards fell, one at Ben’s hand and one at that of Phasma’s husband, and then there was only Snoke. Snoke who was somehow sucking the life out of Rey, stealing her very essence.

“You’re too late, boy,” Snoke hissed, his countenance one of evil glee. “She’s too young, unmated, she can’t contain the power of the old one. It’s mine, now, all mine!”

“Really? A villain monologue?” Ben rolled his eyes, looking very much like the teenager he’d been when he first met Rey, then made a fist and punched the old man in the nose.

His blood was red.

Interesting, that. Somehow Ben had expected black, or maybe just empty nothingness. Hux and Phasma were just suddenly there, shackles Phasma had taken off Rose in hand as the pair locked them in place around Snoke’s wrists and ankles. “That won’t hold him for long, but you need to save your mate before we can deal with him.” Ben blinked at Phasma in his confusion.

_Mate? But they hadn’t…_

Didn’t matter, not important. He scrambled over the grass—surprisingly springy beneath him—reaching her side just as the other man, Phasma’s husband, lowered her gently to the ground.

She was so still.

No.

_No, no, no…please._

“Rey, come on Sweetheart, you can’t leave me now.” He tugged her into his lap, lips pressed to her forehead. “Come back to me, Rey, please don’t go.”

A hand covered his, dragging it over Rey’s shoulder, coming to rest on her heart. His eyes followed the hand and arm, gaze resting on Phasma’s husband ( _Why? Why for the life of him could Ben not remember the man’s name?)._ The devastating sadness in his eyes echoed Ben’s.

The man reached for Phasma with his other hand and she took it, her free hand coming to rest on Ben’s shoulder. “Probably time the two of you had a proper introduction,” she said. “Solo, this is my husband, Dopheld—Rey’s brother. Twin brother, as it were.”

It was fortunate Ben was already seated.

“There’s not much time, but you can do this if you trust us.”

Ben nodded repeatedly, making himself dizzy and there was an ache in his side.

“Snoke was right about most of what he said, she is too young to channel Maz’s power, it will burn her out without help.”

Luke dropped down beside Ben. “But Snoke was wrong about one thing. She’s not unmated.” Ben opened his mouth to protest and Luke waved a hand. “I’m not talking about any physical act, boy.” Ben blinked. Why was Luke whispering and weaving around?

Phasma’s hand on his shoulder tightened. “Stay with us, Solo.”

Oh, Luke wasn’t the one weaving. Ben shifted to sit up straighter and his shirt felt sticky. Luke grabbed his hand before he could touch it. “Best not, just focus on Rey,” his uncle said, a tight, forced smile never reaching his eyes.

Luke was…scared?

“You and Rey, the two of you have been bonded since you were fourteen. It’s a legend so old even the dryads had stopped believing it, but it’s a life bond, you can literally share and channel her power— _Maz’s_ power now that it’s passing to Rey—and I _need_ you to do that, okay Benny?”

Luke put a hand on his face. Was he…why was his uncle crying?

“This would be better if we could get you to the trees, into the oak ring around Maz, but I don’t think we have time,” Luke muttered.

Ben had to try twice before he could speak. “H-how? Show me.” Luke gestured, and every dryad, drus, and even naiad that could move came forward, hands extending to touch any part of Ben or Rey they could. Those who couldn’t reach that far touched the ones between and that odd, raspy, wind like chanting started.

He would never be able to explain it, not in words, but it was like something inside him...opened.

“You have to direct the power, Ben, show it where to go.”

He wanted to ask what Luke meant, how to do that but he just _knew_ , instinctively, what to do. The hand over Rey’s heart slid down, covering her midsection, and the other rested lightly over her forehead, where Snoke had been holding the stone or whatever he’d had. Her back arched and she sucked in a breath and then it was like another concussive blast went off, ricocheting back from her, through Ben, and outwards.

Rey sat up, smiling at him, whispering his name. Her hands came up, resting gently on his face and he leaned forward, resting his forehead against hers.

He was…quite tired. His ears were ringing again, and his eyes didn’t seem to want to focus. Rey stared at him in concern. He needed to lie down.

Just for a moment, just a quick rest.

Snatches of hurried, hushed conversation came from around him and his side hurt again.

“…blood loss…”

“…power keeping him going…”

“…wouldn’t have made it this long…”

“ _Ben._ Don’t go.”

Rey. That one was Rey.

He struggled to open his eyes, needing to see her again. “No, don’t cry. You’re safe now.” He touched her face, thumb brushing over her cheek to catch the droplets there.

“ _Ben.”_

She sounded so…broken. He didn’t want that.

There was a sharp stab of pain in his side and he sucked in a breath, instantly regretting the action as another pain shot through him. “Easy, tiger, I need you to stay still until we get the bleeding stopped,” Rose said, still pressing down on his side.

Bleeding?

“Wha bleedn?” he mumbled.

“Silly human, get yourself shot and don’t even notice,” Rose murmured.

“Didn’t.”

“Right, I’m sure this hole in your side’s always been there.”

His eyes were heavy again, and it was getting harder to breathe. Rey’s hand gripped his. “Ben? _Ben? BEN!”_

He wanted to tell her it was okay, he was just going to rest his eyes, but he was just so _tired._

“You can’t stay here.”

“Dad?”

“Yeah, son.”

“You’re dead.”

His father gave him an annoyed look. “I’m aware. And if you stay here you will be, too.”

“But—”

“No buts, Ben. GO. HOME.”

“I don’t know how.”

“Yeah, you do. You know where it is, too. Or maybe I should say _who._ ”

“Whom.”

Han Solo laughed. “So like your mother. You can tell her I said that. She always said you were too much like me, but that one’s not my fault.”

“Dad, I…”

“I know, son. I know. Now _go._ ”

Ben sucked in a breath and blinked up in confusion. Why was he in the woods?

Oh, wait, the ring of oak trees. Something about magic and healing…

“BEN!”

Rey’s hands were everywhere at once as she peppered kisses all over his face. She and Rose helped him sit up slowly, aided him in sliding back until he could lean against what was left of Maz’s tree. The clearing was crowded, nymphs and humans scattered about, though not as many as before, and they seemed to be arranged in some sort of triage. The dryads with the worst injuries were propped against the oldest trees, humans arranged more centrally, as Hux, Phasma, Kaydel, and Poe moved back and forth between them.

Snoke’s people were there, injuries being tended just like everyone else. Even the two panicked foremen were at the edge of the oak ring, calmly watching everything around them.

Ben shifted as something pulsed through the ground beneath him. It felt like…well like the power from earlier, but wilder somehow. Dangerous.

“I take it you felt that?” Phasma said, leaning over him. He nodded. “It’s not stable, and that could be a very bad thing for everyone here.”

“Wha—how do we—I mean…I don’t even know what I’m asking.”

She grinned at him. “How do you fix it?” He nodded and her smile widened even farther. It was almost scary. “Simple, Solo. You and Rey need to get married.”

“Uh…wh…ho…”

He gave up on even attempting to speak and just stared at her, eyes wide and mouth open in shock. Surely, she had to be joking.

Her expression did change then, something akin to sympathy or compassion in her eyes. “I’m not joking about that, by the way. Formalizing and sealing your bond with her will balance the power, keep the magic flowing the way it’s supposed to, so we don’t end up with another Snoke or Palpatine on our hands. It’s not forever…well the marriage would be, but if you really consider it, I don’t think you have a problem with that part.”

He glanced at Rey, a few feet away and whispering animatedly with her brother.

No. No, surprisingly he didn’t have a problem with that part.

“The power can be transferred, Solo. To another dryad of the same bloodline.” She placed a hand on her belly and stared, waiting for him to work it out. “Dopheld can’t channel the power, it’s restricted to the female line, but we already know we’re having a girl. As her parents, and with him being Rey’s twin, we can sort of…hold it in trust until she’s old enough.”

“That’s…quite a sacrifice to make.”

She looked over at her husband, who was smiling at Rey as they laughed about something.

“No, Ben, it really isn’t.”

His mother arrived in less than an hour, Threepio hobbling along behind her with the assistance of a cane. She forced him into a clean, white shirt, surprisingly accepting of the situation. “I’ve been talking to Luke, the last year or so, and I did some of my own research into Snoke, and Dr. Pryde.” She smoothed the front of his shirt, brushed his hair out of his eyes like she had sometimes done when he was a small child. “Ben, I’m sorry I didn’t believe you. It was just all so…well, impossible. And there really were drugs in your system and I…I knew I’d failed you.”

“Mom, stop. It’s…look I can’t say it doesn’t matter, but we all know the truth now, and…I’d like to try to be a family, someday.”

She blinked back tears and nodded, patting his hand a few times. “Okay. Yes, okay, that sounds…I’d like that.”

A crackle of leaves drew his attention and he turned, facing Rey. She wrapped her arms around one of his and looked up at him. “Mate?”

“Forever.” She beamed up at him and the crossed the clearing, meeting Luke by Maz’s tree.

As much as he wanted to, Ben would never be able to remember any of the words, not his nor Rey’s nor Luke’s, but he would never forget the way she looked at him, or how he felt when she did. Luke bound their wrists together with a braided cord, and Ben gasped as he actually _felt_ the bond between them solidify, stabilize.

After that the transfer of power was surprisingly simple, and he stood at Rey’s back, hands on her shoulders as she spoke in a that whistling windchime cadence and the wind stirred up around the four of them—Rey, Ben, Dopheld, and Phasma (well, five counting the baby—his niece, he realized, surprisingly pleased at the prospect).

The wind died down and the dryads in the clearing just sort of…faded from view.

Ben looked down at Rey. He wanted to carry her away somewhere private, or hell, bed down in the leaves with her, but there was one other thing to take care of.

Snoke was still bound with the shackles he’d used to keep Rose prisoner and tied to one of the trees at the edge of the clearing with some kind of vine. He didn’t look so good, what had once seemed normal human skin an unhealthy shade and the lines and scars on his face actual cracks.

“Kylo, my boy, I know you won’t hold this against me. Think of all I’ve done for you. We could _rule_ , you and I. I could make you my apprentice in truth, teach you the ways of Palpatine.”

Ben stared at him, reached for the vines, and untied him. That evil grin slid across Snoke’s face, slowly replaced by actual fear as Ben hauled him up by the arm and dragged the (surprisingly light) being across the clearing, to Maz’s decimated trunk. There was a burned hollow, from the explosives, and Ben shoved him into it.

“My name,” he said quietly, “is _Ben fucking Solo_. The only thing you have done for me, is steal nineteen years of my life.” Rey slipped in beside Ben, tucking herself under his arm. She pressed something into his hand and a vengeful smile curled Ben’s lips.

Snoke didn’t even have a chance to protest as Ben pressed a small, carved stone against Snoke’s forehead. The same one he’d used to try and siphon off Rey’s power, the one he had used to trap the souls of countless others. A single scream echoed around the clearing as the trunk…closed over him, the only sign he’d ever been there a face like pattern in the bark that grew over the hole. The forest around them seemed to sigh in relief, and it just seemed a little brighter.

Dopheld placed one hand on the trunk and smiled at his wife. “Home,” he said softly, taking Phasma by the hand as the two of them faded from sight.

“Speaking of home, I’m not living in a tree,” Ben said, arms wrapping around a giggling Rey.

“Technically I’m half mortal now, thanks to you. I think I might like to try living in a house.” He stared down at her in shock. Her voice was the same but the way she spoke was…different.

“Adaptation.”

Ben turned around, blinking at Hux.

“Adaptation,” the man repeated. “It happens. Surely you noticed my Rosie picked up more modern, human patterns of speech.”

“I…yeah, I guess I did.”

“It’s an evolutionary response, only far faster than it works in the non-magical world.”

Ben thought that made a certain kind of sense. It would certainly be less noticeable, but he did kind of miss the musical cadence and clipped sentences.

“I could go back to chirping single words or short phrases at you, if you like,” Rey said, staring up at him from where she cuddled against his chest. “Mate.” Her hands trailed over his chest. “Strong.” She stroked his shoulders, wrapped her arms around his neck, and stepped impossibly closer. “Thick trunk.” She made a playful, growling sound and lightly bit his arm.

He practically dragged her out of the woods and to the house, pausing at the sight of his uncle and mother standing on the front porch, Threepio in the rocking chair. “Home?” Rey chirped, smile reaching all the way up to her eyes.

“Yes,” Luke called, “If you want. Or there’s the Kenobi place, or any of the camp buildings. Until you decide where you want to put down roots.”

Still, Ben hesitated. His mother walked down the steps and crossed the yard. “We’ll see you tomorrow, son,” she said, tugging her son down far enough that she could kiss his cheek. “Welcome to the family, dear,” she said to Rey, who got a cheek kiss of her own. Luke helped Threepio down the stairs, and into the back seat of the town car.

“Congratulations to you both Master Ben, Mistress Rey,” the old man called as Luke closed the door.

Luke waved as he walked around to the passenger side. “You’ll have to carry her over the threshold, Ben. Rey’s a Greek dryad, the protections on the house are Celtic. Think of it like a Windows versus Mac situation.” And with that oddly helpful advice, he settled himself in the car and his mother backed it out of the driveway.

Hux and Rose still had their SUV in the drive, and Kaydel and her mate—the other naiad, Jannah—were near the storage shed, but Ben didn’t particularly care where they were or how long they stayed, as long as they didn’t try to come into the house.

He had plans for his _wife_ which absolutely did not involve visitors. They’d been waiting for each other, for this moment, for nineteen years.

Rey giggled again and kicked her feet as he swept her up into his arms and carried her up the porch steps, pausing to fumble at the screen door before carrying her inside and straight into the second bedroom, kicking the front door closed behind them and not even bothering to look and see if it caught.

Her laughter echoed even over the sound of the air conditioners when she bounced as he tossed her onto the bed.

Nineteen years.

Worth the wait.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW/CW:  
> gun violence-Snoke brings armed guards with him. Ben is shot during the fight.  
> explosions-Snoke has the demo crew blow up Maz's tree.  
> threat of violence against children-Snoke kidnapped Rose and Hux's children as hostages. He threatens their daughter and attempts to strike their son.  
> mention of pregnancy-Phasma is expecting


End file.
